


The Greatest Magic of All

by ranguvar82



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Aziraphale Has Chronic Pain (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Has Chronic Pain (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is Multilingual, Fluff, Illusionist Crowley, Light Angst, Love at First Sight, M/M, Magician Aziraphale (Good Omens), Parental Abuse, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:28:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25426144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ranguvar82/pseuds/ranguvar82
Summary: Aziraphale Fell is a former magician whose livelihood was stolen from him with one bad accident. He no longer wants anything to do with the magical world. So when his friend and neighbor Anathema drags him to see an illusionist that goes by The Serpent, he's expecting to hate every moment. He's not expecting for the Serpent, one Crowley by name, to be an incredibly gorgeous and very sweet man, and he finds himself falling hard and fast.Crowley is an illusionist with a string of bad relationships. He learned very quick to not get close to anyone. But this tartan clad angel seems to be very effective at shattering all his barriers.
Relationships: Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale & Anathema Device, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 92
Kudos: 179
Collections: Good Omens Human AUs





	1. Stage Encounters

The Greatest Magic of All

Chapter One: Stage Encounters

“ _And now, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, let me direct your attention to the platform above the stage, where the Amazing Fell will perform his greatest magic trick of all: The Angel of The Gate!”_

_Breathe. In. Out._

_Count ten._

_Check wing flaps._

_Another breath. Now. Dive._

_Ignite sword. Open wings._

_Open. Wings._

_**OPEN WINGS OPEN WINGS OPEN WINGS** _

_**WHY AREN’T THEY OPENING?!!!** _

Aziraphale Fell bolted upright, panting and shaking in horror. He grabbed for his bottle of water on the nightstand, his hands shaking so badly he nearly fumbled it, and took a long drink. It had been a while since he had that Dream. He fumbled for his pain pills and popped two in his mouth. His pain was always worse after he had the Dream. He eased his way out of bed and lurched towards the bathroom, his back and legs screaming in pain. Once in the bathroom, he had to count twenty and breathe very carefully to keep from screaming. The shower, which on a ‘good’ morning(for Aziraphale’s definition of good, which usually meant his pain was at a four and not a ten) took him ten minutes, took nearly half an hour. Finally, he managed to get himself cleaned up and into a loose robe. He limped into the kitchen, debating to himself if he should try to make breakfast. A look down at his jerking hands told him that was probably not a good idea. He went to the phone, dialing a number that he knew would answer, even if she did scold him for waking her up at five thirty in the morning.

“Hello?” Came a sleepy voice at the other end. “If you’re selling something, I warn you I have occult powers and can turn you into a frog over the phone.”

Aziraphale laughed. “Ana, it’s me.”

The demeanor of the other speaker changed instantly. “Zira! Hey! Why are you calling me at five thirty?”

Aziraphale sighed. “Bad dream, and I was going to make breakfast, but my hands are...they’re really bad today, so...”

“I’ll be over in ten minutes. You still like French toast, right?” His neighbor asked.

Aziraphale nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good. Ana?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

Aziraphale hung up, feeling much better. His neighbor in the next flat over, Anathema Device, was an American who had moved to Soho for a ‘change of scenery.’ They had met in the stairwell when Aziraphale, who was certain that he could take the stairs, had collapsed halfway up, the pain in his legs so bad that he couldn’t even sob. He had lain there, helpless, when he had heard a soft, feminine voice ask if he was okay. He could only whimper, and she had carefully helped him to stand, gotten him up the stairs, and into his flat, gently chiding him the whole time.

It hadn’t taken them long to become friends. Anathema, or Ana, as she preferred, was a bright, fiercely intelligent woman with a downright wicked sense of humor and a penchant for all things occult. Aziraphale, who once believed very much in God but now was sure She was a conniving bitch, would tease he mercilessly-but never maliciously. Ana was an excellent cook, and on days when Aziraphale’s pain flared, she would come over with ‘leftovers’.

He had opened up to her about the Accident, telling her about his life as a magician. While he had never become a millionaire or world famous, his shows had drawn enough of a crowd to keep him in a comfortable life.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, and he looked up from the sofa. “It’s open!”

Anathema came in, smiling. “I made yours with strawberries.” Aziraphale could smell the delicious French Toast from the sofa, the aroma of powdered sugar and strawberries combined with honey making his mouth water. Ana set the covered plate on the coffee table. “It’s all cut up already. You want some coffee?”

Aziraphale nodded. Ana went into the kitchen and began making his coffee how he liked it, dark and bitter. She poured it into a mug with a large handle, then got a fork and napkin and went back into the parlor, setting the objects in front of Aziraphale. “Eat up.”

Aziraphale dug in. “Whuh bout you?” He asked through a mouthful of delicious toast.

“I’m good. Did you take your meds?” Aziraphale nodded. “Good. Listen, Zira, I was wondering if, maybe you’d...like to go somewhere with me.”

Aziraphale blinked at her. “Um. Ana, I’m flattered, but..”

Anathema looked confused, then laughed. “Not a date, stupid. Somewhere with me as a friend! See, I’ve, well, I’ve got these spare tickets, and they’re front row, really excellent seats, and you’re pretty much my best friend, so what do you say?”

“What’ s the event?”

Ana smirked. “That’s a surprise. But I promise, if you don’t like it, you can spend the rest of your life scolding me. And...I’ll treat you to dinner!”

Aziraphale sighed. “Fine. When?”

“Tonight.”

So that was how Aziraphale found himself sitting in the front center seat of a theater he knew all too well, looking up at a stage that he never expected or wanted to see again. Fuming, he clenched the armrests and glared daggers at Anathema, who simply smirked. “You tricked me. You know how I feel about magic shows, Ana, and you tricked me.”

“Of course I tricked you. Zira, I promise, you’ll like this guy. He’s really good.”

Aziraphale focused on not going into a panic attack. Don’t look up. That’s all. Just don’t look up.

The houselights went off, and Aziraphale nearly jumped out of his seat when the stage lights came up, revealing a dark, fiery background.

“Welcome.” Hissed a voice that seemed to come from every direction. “Welcome, foolissh mortalss…

**TO THE SERPENT’S LAIR!** ”

Something large was undulating on the stage, the fire capturing parts of the long, sinuous body. The creature moved forward, and Aziraphale could now see that it was a giant snake, nearly forty feet long. He whimpered, pressing himself back in his seat as a red spotlight shone on the snake. He blinked, then gasped aloud.

The snake was only a snake from the waist down. Above the waist, bare chested, was a man with the reddest hair Aziraphale had ever seen. The man twisted and turned, peering at the audience as a forked tongue flickered in and out. “Welcome, one and all. I am The Serpent. I am here to open your mind to the wondersss of magic. But firssst...”

Aziraphale gasped, along with several other audience members, as the snake’s body began to dissolve. The man shrank down, revealing long, long legs encased in tight black trousers. Aziraphale gulped when he realized that the Serpent, whoever he might be, was A. Not putting on a shirt, and B. Incredibly beautiful. He whimpered, this time for a different reason, and licked his suddenly dry lips.

Anathema looked over and grinned to herself.

Up on stage, Anthony Crowley, or as he was known by his stage name, The Serpent, began his routine. He loved coming out in the snake apparatus. It gave his audience a good scare, and it was a unique trademark. He loved shocking his audience, pushing their minds to the limit of what they could take.

He was halfway through his trick of shoving a sword through his head when he happened to look out over the audience. They were all his usual sort, leather clad teenagers, a few brave couples out on a date. But then his eye fell on the man sitting in the front row, a young woman next to him. The woman was dressed in a long green dress, and she wore glasses. But Crowley’s attention was solely on the man.

He was...he was... _gorgeous_. Soft blond hair that was nearly white framed a cherubic face with the bluest eyes Crowley had ever seen, soft, plump lips, and perfectly manicured hands. Thank Someone for the fact that he could do this routine in his sleep, because Blondie was very distracting. A gasp arose from those plump lips when Crowley drove the sword home, and the illusionist nearly fumbled. Even the man’s gasps were adorable.

Crowley grasped the sword handle, yanking, while at the same time pressing the hidden mechanism on the blade. To the audience, it would look as though he had pulled the sword out of the top of his head. He put on his best pain face, screaming. A few audience members shrieked, and Crowley grinned. He always did like it when they screamed. With a flourish, he twirled the sword and sent it into the stage with a loud thunk.

As he continued his act, he found himself gazing at Blondie more and more. The man was riveted, his eyes transfixed on Crowley. The illusionist wondered if the woman with him was his date(though he desperately hoped that wasn’t the case). He had never seen anyone like this man at any of his shows. The guy was wearing a waist coat! It made him stick out like a sore thumb, which only made Crowley notice him more.

He finished his final trick, taking his bows as he absorbed the applause. He loved this bit. The curtain closed, and he headed backstage, ready to wipe the makeup off his face and call it a night.

He slumped in his dressing room chair, head thrown back, and took a swig of water from the bottle in his hand. A gentle knock at the door had him tilting his head upside down. “Yeah?”

His assistant Tracy came in, looking contrite. “Mr. Crowley, I hate to disturb you, but there’s this young lady, says she won’t leave until she sees you.”

Crowley groaned. This was the part he would rather avoid. One of the pitfalls of the way he dressed and acted on stage was that he had to divert several requests from groupies, both male and female. Crowley wasn’t interested in a quick fling with some teenager(not the least because he was approaching forty). He wanted a steady, committed relationship. But he knew that if he didn’t give whoever it was at least a minute, he would feel like a complete heel. “Okay, tell her I can give her five minutes, no more.”

Tracy nodded and left the dressing room. Mentally, Crowley began to recite The Speech in his head. It was a speech that he had made so often that it came naturally to him.

A knock on his dressing room door had him looking around. Tracy came in, and Crowley could see the woman behind her. She was Green Dress, and Crowley automatically launched into the speech.

“I’m sure you’re a very fun person, and that you can show me a great time, but I make it a rule to never get involved with any of my...” Crowley’s voice died in his throat when he saw who was accompanying Green Dress. “Ngk.”

The man was, somehow, even more gorgeous up close. He was about a head shorter than Crowley, and looked incredibly huggable and soft. He smiled shyly and waved, and Crowley tried to remember how his muscles worked. “Hello.” Gods, even his voice sent shivers down Crowley’s spine.

“Grk. Uh...hi.” Crowley’s tongue felt like it weighed a ton.

“I’m Aziraphale.” The man-Aziraphale, what a perfect name-held out a plump hand. “And you are?”

Crowley blinked. What the hell was his name again? “Uh...Crowley. Is me. Hi.” He shook Aziraphale’s hand, nearly swooning at how warm it was. “I uh...haven’t seen you before.”

Aziraphale blushed, and Crowley nearly fainted again. God, that blush was so cute. “Yes, well, I haven’t really had occasion to, well, see the type of show you put on. Ana dragged me here.”

The woman in the green dress-Ana-grinned. “And you liked it. Don’t deny it, the whole time you were gushing about how good he was.” Aziraphale glared at her, and Crowley grinned.

“That true? You thought I was good?”

Aziraphale nodded. “You’re...very talented. I just...don’t have very good memories of this place.”

“Zira used to perform here.” Ana supplied. “He was a magician too.”

Crowley grinned. “Yeah? What name? Maybe I’ve heard of you.”

“M’zing Fell.” Aziraphale mumbled, and Crowley couldn’t help the gasp.

He had heard of him. Fell had been a pretty popular magician about ten years ago, noted for his sleight of hand tricks. He was a ‘magician for the whole family’, the ads said. Crowley had never been to one of his shows, but he had heard from a few friends that Fell was ‘cool in a sort of dorky way’. He had also had a routine that he had patented… “Angel of the Gate. That was your signature trick, right?”

Aziraphale went stiff, his breathing becoming harsh. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Why hadn’t he taken his meds before coming? Oh dear, the room was starting to spin. Get it together, Aziraphale! Deep breath. Count five. Exhale. Inhale. Count five. Fog. There was fog in his ears. Someone was talking.

“Hey, are you alright?” Crowley. That was Crowley. He had a nice voice. “Okay, come on. Let’s sit down, okay? There’s a chair right under you. It’s really comfy. Think you can sit?” Aziraphale dropped into the chair. Oh, it was comfy. He blinked, the world coming back into focus. Crowley was kneeling in front of him, concern on every line of his face, and Aziraphale couldn’t help but notice that his eyes were a brilliant shade of gold. “You here?” Aziraphale nodded. “You want some water? I can’t promise it’ll be cold, but it’s drinkable.” Another nod, and Crowley reached under the dressing table and handed Aziraphale a bottle of water. “There you go.”

Aziraphale took a sip. The water was cool. “I am so dreadfully sorry, my dear. You must think me a right fool.”

“Nah, I don’t. I know a trigger when I see one. Mine’s real loud noises.”

Aziraphale took another sip of water. “It went wrong.” He said, staring off into the distance. “I’d done it hundreds of times, and it never went wrong. But that night...the mechanism jammed. I couldn’t get it open, and the rope snapped, and...” he retched. He would never forget the feeling of landing hard on the stage, his bones shattering. “Took me nearly four years before I could walk again. I had to quit, my hands shook so bad that I couldn’t hold anything. I’ve got so much metal in me I set off detectors, and I’ll be in chronic pain for the rest of my life.” Aziraphale bit his lip. “I’ve uh...not told anyone that but Ana.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” Crowley said softly. “Sides, I um...well, I’m guessing you saw the way I...moved on stage? Like a snake, yeah? It’s how I chose my name.” Aziraphale nodded. “Yeah, comes from having severe hip dysplasia. Had it ever since I was a kid. It sucks.”

“I’m so sorry.” Aziraphale said softly. Crowley shrugged.

“Eh, it is what it is.” The illusionist rubbed the back of his neck. “Um, I...talking to you is really nice, but the theater manager’s gonna toss me out if I stay too much longer, so...”

Aziraphale went beet red “Oh, of course, how foolish and selfish of me, I should go, I am so sorry to have taken up your time, Ana and I will go right away, do please forgive me...”

“I was wondering if you’d like to get some coffee?” Crowley blurted out, face as red as his hair. Aziraphale blinked at him.

“Huh?”

“Is just...um...I know this really great all night diner that has really good coffee and they also have pretty okay food, and I go there a lot, and well, I kinda want to keep talking to you, because, well, you’re...um...adorable.” The last word was mumbled so low Aziraphale almost didn’t catch it. Almost.

“Well!” Ana said, and Aziraphale jumped,. He had honestly forgotten she was in the room. “I’m gonna head for home. Zira, I want all the juicy details, understand?”

After she had left, Crowley gulped. “Um...well...should we...” Aziraphale nodded. “Right. Um...shit. I should put on a shirt.” He grabbed a t shirt from the closet, yanking it over his head. “Come on.”

The sun was already halfway up when Aziraphale came stumbling out of the lift, a goofy grin on his face. He walked down the hall to his flat, humming to himself. He inserted the key and was about to go in when the door across the hall banged open and Ana glared at him. “Aziraphale Zane Fell, do you know what time it is?”

“Yeah.” He sighed. Ana giggled.

“Well, that must have been some date. I’ll fix us some tea and you can tell me all about it.”

Aziraphale put up a token protest as she barged past him. “Oolong okay?”

“Uh huh.” He sank onto the sofa, still grinning like a loon. Ana made the tea and brought it over.

“Spill.”

Aziraphale took a sip of the strong tea. “He’s um...he’s perfect, Ana. He’s smart, and funny, and so so gorgeous, and we talked in the cafe for hours, about everything, and nothing, and he’s got the most infectious smile, and when he laughs, his eyes light up, and when we were done, he gave me a ride home, he’s got a Bentley! And then he….asked if he could give me a kiss, and...” Aziraphale sighed into his mug. Crowley had tasted like the coffee he had been drinking, but underneath Aziraphale had tasted cinnamon. “His lips were so soft, and he smelled so good...”

“Sounds as though you like him.” Ana said dryly, her eyes twinkling with suppressed mirth. Aziraphale sighed dreamily.

“Yeah.”

Across town, Anthony Crowley lay in his huge bed, the same silly grin on his face. Aziraphale was fucking perfect.

He hoped to God that he didn’t fuck this up.


	2. Raging Infernos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which sparks do not fly so much as ignite.

Chapter Two: Raging Infernos

Crowley woke up feeling like he could conquer the world. Whistling to himself, he climbed out of bed and went to the shower, stepping in and letting the hot water unkink the muscles in his back. He hummed a vague tune, running his hands through his hair to get out all the tangles. A sudden thought hit him.

‘I wonder how Aziraphale’s hands would feel in my hair.’ The thought made him sigh. Aziraphale’s hands had looked as though they would feel orgasmic in Crowley’s hair. So soft, so plump, with nails just sharp enough to scratch. Crowley could picture it so easily. Those gorgeous hands in his hair, threading through the long locks, scraping his collarbone, then trailing down to his nipples, stroking them, then moving down the illusionist’s chest, pressing bruises into the flesh, then those beautiful hands would wrap around Crowley’s cock, and Aziraphale would move them, every touch feather light while Crowley writhed and whimpered under his touch, Aziraphale whispering in his ear what a good boy he was, how good he felt in his hand…

With a gasp, Crowley came. Fuck. He had just wanked in the shower over a man he had just met the night before. And over the man’s hands, no less. Not that the rest of him wasn’t fucking mouthwatering. He washed himself and stepped out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, and went into the kitchen to find sustenance.

Empty shelves greeted him, and Crowley made a mental note to go to the market this week. Sighing, he got dressed and headed for the diner, knowing that he at least could get a decent cup of coffee.

The diner was already bustling, and Crowley groaned. Damn it. He just wanted a bloody coffee. Grumbling to himself, he found an empty booth and slid in, head in his hands.

“What can I getcha?” The waitress, a young girl of about seventeen asked, a bored expression on her face.

“Coffee. Black.” Crowley mumbled, and the waitress snorted and walked off. Crowley idly watched the people getting to go orders. He jumped a bit when the waitress plonked a coffee mug in front of him. “Thanks.” He drawled sarcastically. The waitress was staring at him. “What?”

“You...it is you! Oh my god, you’re The Serpent! This is so cool!” The waitress was almost squealing, and Crowley sunk into his seat, bitterly wishing that he had remembered to wear his sunglasses. Damn his eyes. “Oh my gawd this is so awesome! Wait ‘till I tell Selene that I had The Serpent himself at my table! She’s gonna go spare! I’ve been to all your shows, you’re so cool! Um...could I have your autograph?”

Crowley looked up at her. “If it will make you go away, sure.” He grabbed a spare napkin. “Got a pen?” The waitress handed one over, and Crowley scribbled his signature. “There. Now, piss off. I’m busy.”

“Thank you so much! Listen, you want anything else? More coffee? Or some company?” The waitress batted her eyes, and Crowley stared at her. “Okay, but if you need **anything** , my name’s Nancy.” 

Crowley watched as ‘Nancy’ sashayed off. He moaned, letting his head thunk onto the formica table top. Fucking groupies. It wasn’t that Crowley didn’t appreciate his fans. He did. Very much. It’s just that, well, there was a time and place for everything. He was entitled to a private life, and sadly there were some fans that didn’t seem to get that. 

Crowley sensed movement in front of him. With his head still on the table, he spoke. “Thought I made it clear I wanted to be left alone.”

“Well, I certainly can leave if you want me to.” The voice across from him made Crowley sit up so fast he nearly got whiplash. Aziraphale was smiling shyly at him. “I do hope I’m not being too forward, but well, I woke up this morning with an odd craving for coffee, and it turns out this place isn’t far from where I live ,but of course you know that, and to be honest, I was...hoping I would run into you.”

Crowley’s mouth didn’t want to work. It hung there, useless, as he took in the man in front of him. Christ alive, if he had thought Aziraphale gorgeous the night before, it was nothing compared to seeing him in the day. The man was fucking **glowing.** His hair was a halo framing his face, and his eyes were the color of the sky. “Uh...uh...uh...”

Aziraphale smiled. “Very eloquent.” Crowley blinked. “Have you ordered any breakfast yet?” 

“Breakfast?” Crowley echoed. What was breakfast? He didn’t want breakfast. He wanted to keep staring at this angel. “No.” He managed. Aziraphale giggled, and Crowley’s stomach did a flip. 

“Well, would you mind if I ordered some? I’m awfully peckish.” Crowley shook his head, and Aziraphale waved over a waitress(not Nancy, much to Crowley’s silent relief). “Hello dear girl, what would you recommend for breakfast?” 

“Well, the pancakes and eggs are really good, but we also have crepes.”

Aziraphale wiggled in delight(and Crowley nearly combusted at how fucking  **adorable** that was). “Oh, crepes sound lovely! I’ll have those!” The waitress scribbled down the order. “Oh, and tea to drink.”

“You got it.”

After she left, Crowley tried to remember how words worked. “So...um...how are you?” 

“Pain wise or just in general?” 

“Both?” 

Aziraphale sat back in the booth. “Pain wise, this is one of my better days. I took my meds this morning, and I remembered to take the lift in my apartment. General, I’m doing wonderfully.”

“Really?” 

Aziraphale smiled. “Yes, well, you see, I had a life changing event last night. My neighbor dragged me to this magic show.”

Crowley frowned in mock sympathy. “How dreadful.”

Aziraphale giggled. “Yes, I was rather contrite over it. But this illusionist turned out to be very sexy.” 

Crowley was  **not** blushing, thank you. “He did?” Damn it, why did his voice sound like it needed oiling?

Aziraphale nodded. “He did. And then my neighbor dragged me backstage, and well, it turns out that not only was the illusionist even sexier up close, he was also really funny and sweet, and well, it seems as if I spent most of the night and half the morning talking to him in the booth of am all night diner.”

Crowley’s blush was even more vivid. “Well, umm...I can tell you that I have it on very good authority that this illusionist is also feeling on top of the world thanks to a gorgeous magician with the most brilliant smile he’s ever seen and eyes that he could drown in.”

This time it was Aziraphale who blushed, and Crowley felt the urge to trace that blush with his tongue and see just how far down it went. “Oh, that’s...that’s very sweet of you.” 

“Ngk.” Crowley said. He looked down into his coffee. “S true. You’re...um...really beautiful, you know?”

“I...usually don’t get told that.”

Crowley looked up. “Well, I’ll...tell it to you every day!”  He made a choking noise when he realized what he had just said. “Er, er.. I mean, um...that is...”

Aziraphale’s smile made the sun look dim. “Does this mean you’d like to...spend time with me?”

Crowley nodded vigorously. “Yeah. Time. That sounds great. Sure.” 

Aziraphale, somehow, beamed even brighter. Crowley was going to go blind from the radiance. “Oh, how lovely.” 

Crowley was melting. How was it possible that at thirty eight years old the love of his life had fallen into his lap? Aziraphale was the complete opposite of the type he usually went for(though Crowley thought bitterly, his last  **type** had turned out to be an abusive prick who stole Crowley’s meds to get high). But maybe that was why he was so bloody perfect. 

A steaming plate of crepes was placed in front of Aziraphale, along with a mug of tea. He smiled beatifically at the waitress. “Oh, this looks scrummy! Thank you so much.” 

Crowley watched as Aziraphale delicately cut up a bit of crepe, lifted it to those pink, plump lips, then slid it into his mouth. All that was enough to make the illusionist’s pulse spike, but then…

Aziraphale  **moaned.** It was a moan that would have made even the most hardened porn star blush, and it shot straight to Crowley’s cock. He gripped the seat, firmly reminding his raging libido that they were in public and it would not be a good idea to leap across the table and rip off Aziraphale’s clothes. 

“Good?” Crowley croaked. 

“Scrumptious. Not as good as the ones I had in Paris, but at least I know these won’t land me in jail.”

Crowley blinked. “Okay, I have to know the story behind that.”

Aziraphale blushed. “It was right after I graduated from Uni. My cousin Michael and I decided that we were going to go to Paris. She wanted to see the Tower, and well, I wanted to try the pastries. But, I didn’t speak a lick of French. So about a week before we left, I decided to learn. I did that...the owl one?”

“Duolingo?” 

Aziraphale nodded. “That’s the one. I even went to sleep listening to it.” 

Crowley was biting his lip, trying not to laugh. “Did it work?”

Aziraphale hung his head. “Not...exactly. I did manage to find a patisserie, and they did have some lovely crepes, but...instead of saying ‘ Je voudrais une crepe’ I said...”

“What?”

Aziraphale gulped. “I said ‘Je suis un minable.” 

Crowley threw his head back, howling in laughter. “What did the owner say?” 

“Some very rude French words, I think. I kept trying to tell him all I wanted was a crepe, but he kept yelling, and I guess one of the other customers had phoned the police, so...I spent a night in jail because I got crepe and creep mixed up.”

Crowley finally got his laughter under control. “Je parle Francais. Je pourrais vous apprendre.” 

“Huh?”

“I speak French. I could teach you, if you like.” He smiled. “My maman is French, and she insisted that I learn it. My Pop speaks Scots Gaelic, so I know that too, mo chridhe.” 

Aziraphale smiled. “What’s that mean?”

Crowley placed his hand on top of the magician’s. “My heart. Because you’ve captured it.” 

“Oh, Crowley.” Aziraphale batted his eyes, his blush deepening. 

“Spend the day with me.” Crowley blurted out. Aziraphale gaped at him. “My show doesn’t start until nine pm, and I really, really love being in your presence, and I...”

“I’d love to. But I’m afraid that perhaps the sort of things I spend my day doing will come across as incredibly dull.”

“Bullshit. I’ll love every second of it. So what are we doing?” 

“Well, there’s this marvelous exhibit on Renoir at the art museum I’ve been **dying** to see, then there’s some antique shops on the High Street, a few bookstores...”

“Sounds marvelous. Let me pay, and then we can get out of here and get things going.”

Normally, Crowley thought to himself as he gazed at the painting in front of him, he wouldn’t go to the art museum on a bet. He preferred the science museum. But seeing the look of rapture on Aziraphale’s face as he took in the sights in front of him was more than worth it. And, Crowley had to admit that this Renoir bloke was pretty talented. “He’s pretty good.”

“Good? He’s a master. One of the greatest painters ever. I wanted to be the next Renoir.”

Crowley looked over, grinning. “Yeah? What happened?”

Aziraphale sighed. “I had absolutely no talent at all. In fact, if it were possible to be negatively talented at something, that was what I was when it came to painting. But oddly enough, it did help me find my true talent in sleight of hand.” Crowley raised an eyebrow. “I was very fidgety as a kid, and always needed something to fiddle with. I would paint with one hand, and with the other I’d do the coin walking trick. You know the one.” Crowley nodded. “It got to the point where I could make the coin ‘jump’ from my free hand to my brush hand and back again. Took me a while to realize that I enjoyed the magic trick a lot more than painting, so  I went to the library and checked out every book on magic that they had.”

They walked through the museum, Aziraphale stopping to admire more art. “Anyway, I started practicing some of the simpler tricks. Coin drop, pulling coins from behind the ears, magic handkerchief, that sort of thing. I would practice or hours, then put on ‘shows’ for my parents and brothers. I was the Amazing Aziraphale, Conjurer Extraordinaire! Well, my parents liked my shows. Gabriel and Sandy thought I was boring, but then they’re dumb jock bullies anyway.”

Crowley nodded. “Yeah, I know the type. My cousin’s married to a guy like that.” 

Aziraphale winced. “Dear, do you mind if we sit? My legs are feeling a bit wobbly.” Crowley led him over to a bench, and Aziraphale lowered himself down. Crowley sat next to him. “This part...it’s hard for me to talk about.” 

Crowley rubbed his back. “Angel, if you don’t feel comfortable talking about it, you don’t have to.”

Aziraphale blushed. “Angel?”

“Yeah, cuz...um...you’re an angel, and...” Crowley’s face went as red as his hair when Aziraphale leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. 

“You are the **sweetest** person I’ve ever met.”

“Don’t spread it around.” Crowley mumbled, and Aziraphale giggled. 

“I promise, your secret is safe with me.” He sighed. “I went to Uni on an English scholarship. In fact, my degree is in literature. In my spare time, I’d put on magic shows for the guys in my building. Then one day I saw a flier for an amateur talent show in town. My roommate convinced me to sign up. So, I did.”

“How’d you do?” 

Aziraphale laughed. “Oh, I bombed. Big time. I kept dropping the coins, my cards wouldn’t come unstuck, my ‘magic’ handkerchief was in knots. Pretty much everything that could go wrong did. I think I crawled off the stage, I can’t be sure. But I went back the next night. And the next. And the more I went back, the better it went, and...”

Crowley smiled softly. “The more you realized what a rush it was to hear people applaud for you.”

“Yeah. Pretty soon other clubs were clamoring for me. I started to cultivate my own unique act. Before I knew it, I was… well, if not world famous, at least well known enough to draw in the crowds.”

“And um...the Angel...act?”

Aziraphale clenched his fists. “Ah. Yes. Well, I don’t know if you know, but I’m named after the angel that guarded the Eastern gate of Eden. He was supposed to have given away his holy weapon, a flaming sword, to help Adam and Eve survive outside of Eden.” 

“Yeah? Y’know, I heard it was a serpent who tempted them.” 

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “The way the trick worked, I had wings that I wore like a harness. They had a mechanism that attached to a rope that would be tied to a very strong roof beam. I’d be on a ledge, with the wings folded behind me, hidden out of sight. I had a ‘flaming’ sword-which was really just a toy lightsaber that I painted flames on-and at a secret signal from me, the stagehand would dim the lights, and I’d ignite my ‘sword’, and dive off the ledge, at the same time clicking a button on the harness that made my wings open.  I’d painted them too, to look like they had fire in them. The rope was there as a safety measure.” Aziraphale took a deep, steadying breath. “That...that night, I’d checked and rechecked everything like I always did. I went into my dive, and...the wings wouldn’t open. I went to grab the rope, to stop my fall, and it snapped.” 

“Oh, Angel...” Crowley put his arm around Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale shuddered, leaning into Crowley’s embrace. “At first the audience thought it was a new bit to the act. But when they realized I wasn’t moving...the next thing I remember is waking up in a hospital bed with a doctor spouting words like ‘therapy’ and ‘lucky to be alive’ and ‘paralysis’. It turned out that by a miracle I had managed to avoid breaking my spine. I broke my legs, arms, and pelvis, had a serious concussion, and a fractured skull. And I broke my hands.  I had surgery so many times I lost count. The doctors...they had to put metal rods in my hands, the breakage was so bad.” He opened his right hand up, palm side down, and Crowley could see the fine tracing of scars. “They’re behaving now, but on my bad days, they jerk and jitter.” Aziraphale started to place his hand back on his lap, but Crowley gently took it, tracing the scars with his thumb.

“They’re beautiful.”

Aziraphale went pink. 

“So how about you? How did The Serpent come to be?” Aziraphale asked. They were sitting in a cafe, two untouched cups of coffee in front of them. Crowley grinned. 

“Well, I’ve always had a thing for snakes, specially cuz of my eyes. Colomba. And like you, I was a fidgety kid. But I always kinda leaned more towards the macabre. Big spooky fan, me. I was browsing Youtube one day and stumbled across a video of Criss Angel.”

“The American illusionist?”

Crowley nodded. “That’s the one. His trademark is his shock act.  Well, I watched one video, then another, and before I knew it I was hooked. I went online and found all the weird magic tricks I could. Even wrote to Criss telling him how much I admired him. He sent me back a letter and an autograph.” Crowley took a sip of coffee. “As to how The Serpent came to be, that was sheer dumb luck. I’d gotten a summer job at the theater in my hometown, sweeping out the backstage. There was a resident magician, Shadwell, and he was drunk most of the time. Well, one night he passed out, and the manager basically shoved me on stage. I was so scared I nearly puked. But I did a few of Criss’s tricks that I had memorized, and they went over...okay. No one threw any tomatoes at me, at least. A few even clapped, and that was nice.  But I realized pretty quick that I wouldn’t get anyplace copying someone else’s act, so I started working on my own. Things snowballed from there, and the next thing I know, I’m at the London Theater, scared out of my wits and getting ready to debut my act for the elite. I’d...do you know what nagas are?” Aziraphale nodded. “A buddy and I spent almost three months putting together this...apparatus that when I wore it, made it look like my lower half was a giant serpent. It was attached to a pulley under the stage, and I controlled the movement via a remote that I could hide in my hands. I even made a fake tongue that looked forked.  When the time came for me to ‘transform’ back into a person, I’d press a button on the remote, and the snake half would fold down bit by bit into a large box under me, making it look like it was dissolving. It still makes people gasp.”

“It’s a marvelous act.” Aziraphale said with great sincerity. Crowley blushed.

“Thnkyou.” 

After the cafe, they went to an antique store(where Aziraphale drooled over a silver snuff box, then blanched when he saw the price) six bookstores(where Aziraphale bought nearly half the inventory) then to the park, where they sat on the bench and threw peas to the ducks. “Crowley?”

“Yeah?” 

“I can’t remember when I’ve spent a better day.” 

Crowley smiled. “Yeah, neither can I. Oh um...here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, shoving it into Aziraphale’s hands. 

Aziraphale opened it, gasping. “Crowley! You...bought the snuff box?” 

Crowley twisted his hands together. “Well, it’s just, you looked so happy when you saw it and then so sad when you looked at how much it was, and I hated to see that gorgeous face so sad, and it’s not like I can’t afford it, but um...I don’t want you to think I bought it to show off my money, I got it because...because I wanted to see you smile.”

Aziraphale blinked at him, and the next thing Crowley knew was that he had an armful of angel, and Aziraphale was kissing him. The illusionist melted into what was, beyond a doubt, the  **best** kiss he had ever experienced.. Days, years, or centuries could have gone by while he was in his angel’s arms. 

The need for air finally won out, and Crowley very reluctantly pulled back, dizzy with love. “You’re welcome.” He croaked. “Um...do you maybe want to get dinner, and then come see my show, and..um...see what happens from there?” 

“I’d love to, Crowley.”

“Thony.”

Aziraphale smiled, stroking Crowley’s cheek. “What’s that?”

“Anthony. Is my first name. Y’can..call me that, if you want.”

Aziraphale kissed him. “Anthony. What a lovely name.”

Crowley melted again. 


	3. Touch A Touch A Touch Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our lovesick boys dine at The Ritz and do much more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea why, but half the chapter is in Italics and I can't fix it.   
> Edit: Found a work around.

Chapter Three: Touch A Touch A Touch Me

“So do you have any family?” Aziraphale asked, looking over at Crowley. They were strolling down the street, hand in hand, peeking through the shop windows. Crowley made a face.

“Well, not much of one. My Maman and Papa don’t really speak to me any more, not since I came out. Well, that wasn’t so much speaking as yelling. In three languages.” At Aziraphale’s look of confusion, he sighed. “When things got heated at home, and believe me that happened **a lot** , you’d be just as likely to hear French and Scots as you would English. And, truth is, I really didn’t learn English until I started primary school, where it was compulsory.”

Aziraphale nodded. “And your parents?”

Crowley sighed. “They could both speak English, but Maman insisted that Bee and I learn French, and Papa hated having to speak the oppressor’s tongue, so he would only speak English if he absolutely had to. They could both speak each others’ language.”

“Bee?”

Crowley smiled. “My sibling. They’re a year younger than me. Their birth name is Beatrice, but when they came out as non binary they had it legally shortened to Bee, because I used to tease them about always buzzing around. They don’t speak to our parents either.”

Aziraphale squeezed his hand. “I’m so sorry. My parents...they reacted pretty much the same way. Father kept going on about how I was going to burn in Hell for my sins, spouting off Scripture like he did every Sunday...” off Crowley’s look, Aziraphale grinned. “Yes, I am the son of a preacher man, as the song goes. Father’s biggest concern, of course, was how it would look for a family as...well known as the Fells to have a...deviant among their ranks. Mother mostly sat there crying and asking me constantly where she went wrong. My brothers were thrilled, because now they could call me even more derisive names. Needless to say, I didn’t stay in that house much longer. I moved in with Michael, finished off high school, then went on to Uni.” Aziraphale’s face twisted. “When I...when I had my accident, I thought that maybe...maybe they would put aside their...disappointment, and come see me, but..”

Crowley growled in rage. “You mean they wouldn’t even come see you in hospital?! Those **arseholes!** ”

“Yes, well, I made my peace with it long ago.” Aziraphale said. Crowley frowned in skepticism, but didn’t say anything else. “Father hated my choice of career anyway, so it really didn’t surprise me.”

“Aziraphale, if I ever meet your parents and brothers, I’m punching all of them in the nose. Even your mother. They’re all raging idiots who don’t realize what a wonderful and perfect person you are.”

Aziraphale blushed pink. “You’re...pretty wonderful yourself, Anthony Crowley.”

“J..”

“Hmm?”

Crowley groaned. “It’s my middle initial. Please, please don’t ask me what it stands for.”

Aziraphale grinned wickedly. “Oh, but now I must know! Is it a French name?” Crowley nodded miserably. “Jermaine?” A shake of the head. “Jacques?” Another shake. “Jan?”

“Nope. And that was three. You don’t get anymore guesses until tonight. How about you? Do you have a middle name?”

Aziraphale made a face. “Yes. It’s Zane, after my great grandfather. I never met the man, he died years before I was born, but from what I know of him he was a lot like my father. It’s why I go by A.Z Fell in legal documents. Well, that, and people will insist on calling me **Zira** . I **hate** that nickname.”

“Yeah, same. I hate being called Tony. Makes me think I’m some sort of Italian mobster in a crime flick, you know?” Crowley put on an exaggerated Italian accent. “Yo, boss, this is Tony. I got the stuff for the hit. When’s it going down?”

Aziraphale was laughing so hard he had to lean against a nearby wall for balance. “You are incorrigible, Anthony!”

Crowley leaned in, staring into sky blue eyes. “Yeah? That a good thing?”

Aziraphale twisted his hand around the silver scarf-necklace dangling in front of him. “It’s a very good thing,” he whispered before yanking the illusionist into a kiss. Crowley whimpered and placed one hand on the wall, the other coming up to bury itself in the cottony softness of Aziraphale’s hair. Aziraphale tasted like strawberries and sunshine, and his lips were so very soft. Crowley’s lean body pressed against his softer one, and the magician twisted Crowley’s red locks in his fingers, tugging slightly. Crowley moaned.

“Oi! Get a room!” The two men broke apart, blushing. Crowley giggled.

“Shouty person’s right, angel. This is really not the most conducive place for this. And I did promise you dinner before I have to get ready for my show. So...how’s the Ritz

sound?” 

Aziraphale gawped at him. “The RITZ?! Are you serious?” 

Crowley nodded. “Yep. I got connections, I can get us a table no problem. Yes or no, Angel?”

“Yes!” 

One hour later, Aziraphale found himself sitting at a table in the real, actual Ritz. It was even more breathtaking than he had ever dreamt. He looked across the table at the man who had made it all possible. “Crowley...I..don’t know what to say. This place, it’s...beyond amazing.”

“Well, then it’s very fitting you’re here, because you’re beyond amazing.” Crowley said, a very fetching blush on his face. Aziraphale felt his heart leap in his chest. “Aziraphale, I...I never believed in fate, or soulmates, or love at first sight, or any of that rubbish. My past...relationships, they were...not good ones. In fact, quite a few were downright horrible. My last boyfriend, Luke, he could be sweet and charismatic when he wanted to. But he was also a junkie who would steal my pain pills to get high and then beat the living shit out of me when I confronted him. He left me for a fellow junkie.” 

Aziraphale gently squeezed the illusionist’s hand. “I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Yeah, I know. After that, I swore to myself that I wouldn’t fall for anybody, because it would inevitably lead to my heart getting broken. I have this embarrassing tendency to go too fast, sometimes. Think maybe it’s my French blood. Then everything changed. This angel of a man walked into my dressing room and somehow, without my realizing, walked out with my heart. He’s the most wonderful person to ever exist, and I don’t want to fuck things up and lose him.”

Aziraphale blinked back tears. “Well, speaking for that man, I can assure you that you will not lose him, and that he feels the same way.” 

“Really?” The raw hope in Crowley’s voice made Aziraphale’s heart twist. “Aziraphale, I’m...fucked up beyond repair. I’m amazed that someone as bloody perfect as you would even give me the time of day, let alone...care for me. I don’t have issues, I have bloody subscriptions, and my baggage is enough to fill twenty airports. I fall too hard, too fast, and I end up scaring people off, or I fall hard for the wrong guy. I’m a bastard, I’m arrogant, I’m...”

“You’re perfect, Anthony. I’m not without my own problems. Apart from the constant pain, I’m very old fashioned.” Crowley opened his mouth to protest. “I am, there’s no denying it. I tend to ramble on about things that most people don’t give two figs for, and I can be very fastidious. I haven’t really had much experience with relationships, mainly because I can’t seem to meet anyone who will accept me for who I am.”

“Rubbish. Anyone who can’t accept you for the angel you are doesn’t deserve you anyway. It was easy for me.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Then is it so hard to believe that I can accept and love you for who you are, flaws and all?”

Crowley looked down. “Angel...’snot fair. You’re not supposed to make me cry in the middle of the bloody Ritz. We haven’t even had dinner yet.” 

“Well, I think we should remedy that. What do you recommend?” 

  
  


“Wait here, Angel. I’ll be right back.” Crowley kissed Aziraphale, then walked over to the reception desk, leaning over to talk to the concierge, who glanced over to where Aziraphale was standing, then looked back at Crowley and nodded, smiling. Aziraphale watched, burning with curiosity, as Crowley came sauntering over(and oh dear god the way his hips moved shot straight to the magician’s cock), a card in his hand and a shit eating grin on his face. “Well, all set.” 

“All set for what?” 

Crowley handed Aziraphale the card. “All set for tonight. See, after my show, we’re going to come back here. That’s your key, don’t lose it. It’s for the penthouse suite. There’s going to be champagne and strawberries waiting for us.” 

Aziraphale would have swooned if not for the strong, lean arms that steadied him. “Hey, you okay?”

“Okay? You booked us a fucking penthouse suite, ordered champagne and strawberries, and you’re asking if I’m okay? I’m bloody perfect!” Aziraphale grabbed Crowley by the scarf and yanked him down into a fierce kiss. They broke apart a few moments later, panting. “Anthony?” Aziraphale asked, hand still curled around the scarf, “How long until you have to get ready for your show?” 

Crowley felt like he was floating. “Um...not for another three hours...” 

Aziraphale gave him a smile that made his entire body feel like it had burst into flames. “Oh, lovely. Shall we head upstairs?” 

Crowley blinked, then grabbed Aziraphale’s hand and practically ran for the lift. 

Once inside the empty lift, Crowley pressed the button for the penthouse. “Shouldn’t take...mmmph!” Aziraphale slammed him into the wall, claiming his mouth in a fierce, hungry kiss. Fuck, he was strong. Crowley could feel the muscles under the soft flesh, and he nearly swooned in desire. The illusionist kissed back, shoving his tongue into Aziraphale’s mouth. The blond lifted one leg, pressing it between Crowley’s long ones, rutting against the ginger’s suddenly very alert cock. “Fuuck...”

“Cameras?” 

Crowley blinked at the non sequitur. “Huh?”

Aziraphale sucked on Crowley’s neck, eliciting a loud groan from him. “Are there any cameras in this lift?” 

“I...um...don’t think so.” 

Aziraphale grinned. “Oh, marvelous.” Before Crowley could ask why no cameras was ‘marvelous’, Aziraphale slid to his knees in front of him. “Although...if you are wrong, whoever is watching is going to get quite the...eyeful.” Crowley gaped at him as Aziraphale unbuckled his belt and pulled down his zipper. Crowley cock, already half hard, popped out, and Aziraphale grinned up at the other man. “Oh, what a big cock you have, my dear. I can’t wait to get it in my mouth.” He scooted closer, then licked a long stripe from base to tip. Crowley made a sound that only dogs would have been able to hear. “Fuuuckk...Aziraphale...”

“So delicious...” Aziraphale whispered before opening his mouth and swallowing Crowley down. He hollowed his cheeks, humming, and Crowley yowled above him. Aziraphale worked the illusionist with his mouth and tongue, drawing out the most wonderful sounds from his lips. 

Crowley was seeing stars. His mind was going over two things, over and over. One. He was being sucked off in a bloody lift in the bloody Ritz. Two. Aziraphale was, beyond a doubt, giving him the most fantastic oral he had ever had in his fucking life. Crowley reached down, tangling his fingers in the soft hair, and the magician grabbed them, encouraging Crowley to move. “Oh my god ‘Ziraphale...so...fucking...good...fuck, your mouth...so hot...fucck...harder...suck...harder...fuck...Angel...I’m...gonna come...”

Aziraphale gave one final hard suck, Crowley came with a howl, and the lift bell dinged, indicating that they had reached their floor. Gasping for breath, Crowley collapsed against the lift wall. Aziraphale helped him get rearranged, then stood, grinning in triumph. “Good?”

“Ngk.” Crowley didn’t think he could form coherent words right now. He wanted to get into that suite. Luckily, Aziraphale seemed to want the same thing, because he grabbed Crowley’s hand and led him out of the lift. 

The second they were in, Crowley slammed Aziraphale into the wall, kissing him with every bit of strength he had. Aziraphale kissed back, placing his knee in between Crowley’s thighs and rubbing. “Ngg...” Crowley pulled back. “Hey, I gotta ask, you going to be able to...”

Aziraphale smiled. “I took my meds. I’m fine. Now, if all that is done with, I would very much appreciate if you took me over to that very nice bed I see and fucked my brains out.” 

Crowley kissed him. “Aww, and here I was hoping you would do the same for me.”

Aziraphale nipped at him. “Hmm...tell you what. After your show, we come back here, and I will gladly fuck you bowlegged. How’s that?”

“Great.” Crowley croaked before taking Aziraphale’s hand and dragging him towards the enormous bed, shedding their clothes as they went. Aziraphale scooted back towards the pillows, openly drooling at the sight of Crowley naked. “Oh, you are...fucking exquisite.”

Crowley wiped his mouth. “Yeah. You too.” He climbed onto the bed and slithered up Aziraphale’s body, kissing him. “I um...I don’t have any condoms, but I’m clean, and...”

“I’m clean too, don’t worry. Lube?” 

Crowley’s face fell. “Fuck. No. Umm...wait.” He reached for the phone and dialed the front desk. “Yes, this is Anthony Crowley. I was wondering if you had any lube? Yes? Great. Send some up.”

Five minutes later, a hotel clerk arrived at the door and handed Crowley a small package. Whistling, Crowley came back to bed. “All set!” He opened the package. “There. Now, where were we?” 

“Well, we hadn’t really started yet.” Aziraphale said with a wicked smile. Crowley grinned and climbed on top of him, pulling him into a deep kiss. They moved together, their rock hard cocks rubbing against each other, and Aziraphale moaned. “Crowley, if you don’t fuck me this minute, I shall be very cross.”

“Yes, Angel, anything...” Crowley groaned. He lifted Aziraphale’s kegs, placing them on his shoulders, then popped the top off the lube, coating his fingers. “Fuck, Aziraphale, you look so fucking hot like this...I can’t wait to be inside you...” He slid two fingers inside, and Aziraphale cried out, clutching Crowley’s arm. “Fucking hell, you’re tight...” Crowley worked him, loving the sounds that were coming from his angel’s mouth. “God, how the fuck did I get so fucking lucky?” 

“Crowley pleaaasssee...” Aziraphale’s voice was nearly a whine as he grabbed and clutched at the man above him. “Need you inside...please...fuck me...”

“Goodd….yess...” Crowley slicked himself up and slid home. “Oh. My. God. Aziraphale...you...oh fuck, you’re fucking perfect...so tight around me...”

“Crowley...fuck...so...big...fuck me hard...”

“You...oh god...feel so good...your cock is...magnificent...fuck I can’t wait for my turn...”

Crowley kissed his angel, then began to move, snapping his hips as he drove home. Aziraphale howled in joy, wrapping his legs around Crowley’s and matched him thrust for thrust. 

“Come inside me...” Aziraphale whined, and Cowley nodded. 

“Yes, my love, anything, I will do anything you want...fuck I love you...you’re so goddamn perfect, so wonderful...I love you, I love you, I love you...” Crowley cried, head thrown back and eyes shut in bliss. “You are what was missing in my life...fuck, I love you...I...” Crowley’s eyes flew open and he screamed Aziraphale’s name as he came, body trembling like a leaf in a hurricane. 

Aziraphale came moments later, Crowley’s name pouring from his mouth. He collapsed onto the pillows, panting for breath. Crowley blinked down at him, gold eyes soft. “Oh...god..that was...”

“Yeah. Um...what I said...I meant it. I love you. I know we haven’t known each other very long, but...”

“I love you too.” 

Crowley’s entire body lit up. “Oh, Angel...” he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Aziraphale’s lips. “Y’know, we still have quite a while for my show.”

Aziraphale grinned, then flipped them over so Crowley was underneath. “Well, let’s not waste any time.”

Crowley giggled in anticipation. Aziraphale smirked down at him, then slicked up his fingers. “You look eager for something, my love. Wonder what it could be? My fingers?” The magician slid his fingers deep inside Crowley, who whimpered. “Hmm. You do seem rather happy with these. But perhaps you want something else?”

“C...cock. Want your cock...”

Aziraphale stroked himself with his free hand. “This? You want this?” Crowley whined and grabbed for it. Aziraphale gently batted his hand away. “Tell me, what do you want with this?”

“Wan...wan it inside me...wan you to fuck me...”

“What’s the magic word?” 

“Bastard...pleassse...”

Aziraphale removed his fingers. “Whatever my love wishes.” He lined himself up, then slammed into Crowley. The illusionist shrieked in pleasure. 

Two hours later, a blissed out Crowley staggered into his dressing room. Tracy pounced on him. “Where have you been? You’ve got ten minutes to get ready!”

“Hmm?” Crowley was still floating on the high of the most mind blowing sex he had ever had in his life. “Is okay, I can get changed in ten.” He fumbled for his makeup kit, and Tracy rolled her eyes and grabbed it. 

“Turn around, I’ll get you ready.” Crowley obliged, and she began painting the scales on his face to give him a snake like look. “So, what’s his name?” 

“Aziraphale...” Crowley sighed. “He’s the most perfect human to ever exist.”

“Sounds like you really like him.”

Crowley frowned. “No. Love him.” He blinked. “Tracy?”

“Yes?” 

“I want him to have VIP seating. He’s coming to see the show again and I want him to have the best seat in the house. Actually, I want a VIP seat set aside for him permanently. Two seats. VIP. Make it happen.” 

Tracy nodded. “You got it.” 

After she had left, Crowley looked up a number. “Hello, is this Anathema Device?”

“Yeah, who’s this?”

“Anthony Crowley. I’m calling to invite you to my show tonight. On me, and you’ll get VIP seating.”

“Yeah? What’s the reason?”

Crowley smiled. “Well, I just thought I would thank you for introducing me to the love of my life, that’s all.” 

Anathema laughed. “You guys hit it off, I knew you would. I’d love to come.”

“Great.” Crowley hung up, grinning. For the first time in a long time, he was happy. 

  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Magic in Your Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Backstage shenanigans, dinner, and confessions.

Chapter Four: Magic in Your Touch

“Wow, these are some really amazing seats.” Anathema said, looking around the theater. “Front row center, can’t beat that.”

Aziraphale grinned. “Yeah, they’re amazing alright. Anthony’s such a sweetheart.”

Anathema gently nudged her friend. “Oh, so you’re on first name basis already?”

Aziraphale gave her a wicked grin. “Ana, I just spent the last few hours with his cock inside me. I think that means I can call him by his first name.”

Anathema made a mock disgusted face and put her hands over her ears. “No! Too much info! Don’t need to hear!”

“What, you don’t want to hear about how big and long he is, about how he can move his hips in a way that made me come in about five seconds flat, how his eyes go wide when he comes, the way he screamed my name...” He giggled when Ana slapped her hand over his mouth.

“You are awful!” She said, her eyes twinkling with suppressed mirth. “You can give me all the juicy details later. Right now I want to watch your boyfriend do his thing.”

Aziraphale turned his attention to the stage, sighing to himself when Crowley slithered into view. God, he was fucking hot as a Naga. Those scales, the muscles(even if they were fake), the makeup, everything about the costume was making Aziraphale’s cock twitch. A sudden thought- I wonder if he could fuck me in that-rose to the surface, and Aziraphale had to shove his fist in his mouth and bite down to keep from moaning. His eyes tracked the sinuous, sensuous movements, and he crossed and recrossed his legs in an effort to keep his erection from being too noticeable. Thank God he had decided to wear loose fitting trousers.

Crowley ‘transformed’ back into a human, and Aziraphale whimpered anew at the sight of those long legs encased in the tight black trousers. He knew better than anyone in that theater what those trousers were hiding. He firmly reminded himself that he was in public, and it would cause quite the spectacle if he leapt on stage and started sucking off The Serpent in the middle of his act. Though, he thought with a wicked smile, it might be seen as another part of the act.

Crowley sauntered around the stage, performing. He looked over and saw Aziraphale staring at him, eyes blown wide with lust, and he slinked his way over to the front of the stage, letting his hips sway back and forth, a wicked smile on his face. “Hi.” He drawled, staring down at his lover through snake-gold eyes. “Having a good time?”

Aziraphale looked like he was seconds away from jumping on stage. “Yuh.” Crowley grinned and blew him a kiss before turning around and sauntering upstage, feeling Aziraphale’s eyes on his arse. He wiggled his backside, giggling to himself at the almost orgasmic moan he heard.

Aziraphale clenched the seat, eyes shut as he tried to think of something that would calm his raging erection. Ana looked over at him, a wide grin on her face. “Problem?”

“That man is a fucking menace, and if I don’t do something soon, I am going to make a public spectacle of myself and ruin a perfectly good pair of trousers.”

“Well, the show’s almost over. Why don’t you go backstage and wait for him?” Ana suggested, and Aziraphale grinned.

“My dear, that is an excellent idea.” He stood up and headed down the aisle, excusing himself. He headed towards the stage door, only to be stopped by a woman in a garish red wig.

“Sorry, no one’s allowed back here.”

Aziraphale reached in his pocket and pulled out the pass Crowley had given to him right before the show started. “I’ve got a pass.” The woman took it, examined it closely, then handed it back with a smile.

“Well, in that case, come on. I’ll show you to Mr. Crowley’s dressing room. I’m Tracy, his manager. Are you here for a specific purpose?”

Aziraphale nearly said ‘Why yes, I’m planning on fucking his brains out once he’s offstage’, but realized that was probably not a great idea. “I’m a friend. Aziraphale.”

Tracy gaped at him. “You’re Aziraphale?!” At his nod, she giggled. “Well, you’re certainly not what I was expecting. Mr. Crowley was going on and on about you earlier. Seems he’s rather gone on you.”

Aziraphale blushed. “Yes, well, the feeling is quite mutual.” They arrived at Crowley’s dressing room, and Tracy ushered Aziraphale to a seat. “Thank you, Madam.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all, dear. Do you want me to tell Mr. Crowley you’re here?”

“No, I want to surprise him.”

Tracy nodded and left, and Aziraphale relaxed in the seat, looking around. Crowley’s dressing room was rather nice, with a large mirror and a standing wardrobe. Aziraphale stood and went over to the mirror, tilting his head back and forth. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to make it look a bit less like a rat’s nest.

A loud commotion from behind made him turn, and he went over to the door, peeking out at the spectacle.

A young girl(Aziraphale guessed her age at about sixteen, maybe seventeen) wearing an outfit that left very little to the imagination was strolling towards the dressing room, followed by Madam Tracy and a young man in glasses. Tracy and the man were trying in vain to stop the girl, Tracy bawling about how she had to leave, how that pass she presented was clearly a fake, and how she would call security. The young man was babbling apologies, saying how he thought for sure it was real, it had looked real, and please don’t fire him.

All three reached the dressing room at the same time. The girl burst in and stopped dead at the sight of Aziraphale. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” The girl snorted and barged past him, settling herself on top of the dressing room table.

“Look, Gramps, I got plans with Crowley, okay? So why don’t you get home and listen to your records or something.”

“Young lady, I am warning you, if you don’t leave, I will call Security and have you escorted out of here!” Tracy said angrily. The girl rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“What’s going on?” Crowley’s voice was nearly a growl. He elbowed his way through the small crowd that had gathered. He blinked at the girl. “Who the fuck are you?”

She blinked coyly at him. “Nancy, remember? From the diner the other day?”

“Yeah. What the fuck are you doing in my dressing room?” He looked over at Aziraphale, his gaze softening. “Hey Angel.”

“Hello.”

Nancy rolled her eyes and huffed. “Uh, hello! Why are you paying attention to that dude? I’m right here, and I’m so much better looking.”

Crowley looked her up and down. “Nancy, was it?” She nodded. “Well, Nancy, I’m paying attention to ‘that dude’ as you say, because he’s my lover.” Nancy’s jaw dropped. “Surprise! I’m gay! And truth is, even if I weren’t, you wouldn’t have a chance with me.” Crowley sighed and walked over to her. “Look, I’m sure you’re an okay kid. But you are a kid. You’re how old? Sixteen?” A miserable nod. “I’m thirty eight, which means I’m old enough to be your Dad. I’ve got no problem giving you an autograph, or even taking some pictures with you. But there would be serious consequences for both of us if I slept with any of my younger fans. It’s the one line I will never and have never crossed. So why don’t you just chalk this up as a lost cause, and I’ll take a few selfies with you? That way you can still brag to your friends that you met The Serpent.”

Nancy wiped her eyes and nodded. Crowley smiled. Nancy pulled out her mobile and snapped a few selfies, grinning. “Thank you so much!”

“Not a problem, kid. Have fun bragging.”

After Tracy left with Nancy and the young man in tow, Crowley turned back to Aziraphale. “So, how’d you like the show, gorgeous?” Aziraphale grinned and beckoned him forward. Crowley stepped closer, yelping in happy shock when Aziraphale yanked him into his lap, kissing him with a passion that made the illusionist’s toes curl. Aziraphale bucked up, and Crowley mewled at the hard, throbbing erection he could feel beneath him. “G..Guess that answers my question.”

“This is your fault, you know.” Aziraphale growled, nipping on Crowley’s lower lip. “That gorgeous arse of yours, those legs...you as a Naga...so fucking hot. In fact...would you be amenable to perhaps someday fucking me while wearing that?”

“Th...The Naga costume?” Aziraphale hummed, sucking on Crowley’s neck. “Yes, oh fuck yes, anything...I’ll do anything you want...”

“Hmm..right now, I’d love your lovely mouth on my cock. I sucked you off, it’s only fair you return the favor.”

Crowley groaned. “Ohhh...yess...Angel...” He slid to his knees and unbuttoned Aziraphale’s trousers, pulling out his cock. “Angel...love you so much...” He licked the thick, long shaft, moaning in orgasmic bliss.

Aziraphale dug his fingers into Crowley’s hair. “Such a good boy.” Crowley whined, and Aziraphale grinned. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Whimpering, Crowley nodded. “Good, good boy. Take your time, my love. Worship me. Show me just what that gorgeous mouth can do.”

“Angel...” Crowley’s voice was thick with love and desire. He swallowed Aziraphale down, his mouth and throat working him. Aziraphale leaned back, eyes shut.

“Oh, Anthony...that’s it, my love, so good, such a clever boy you are, you take me so well, good boy...so good, suck me harder, my love...” Aziraphale gripped Crowley’s hair tighter and began to fuck his mouth, words of praise pouring from his lips. “Good boy, so good for me, so perfect, so obedient, so wonderful my Anthony, so good...”

Crowley was in heaven. He pawed himself through his trousers, whining as he sucked down his perfect angel. He could die right now, between Aziraphale’s perfect thighs, and he would be a happy man. The world had faded. Nothing else mattered except bringing Aziraphale to orgasm.

Aziraphale went stiff, then cried out Crowley’s name and came. The illusionist swallowed him down, whimpering in joy. “Angel...love you so much...”

Aziraphale smiled down at his panting lover. “I love you too. Come up here.” Crowley crawled into Aziraphale’s lap. The magician kissed him, their tongues tangling together. Aziraphale unzipped his trousers, taking his throbbing cock in hand. “You’re such a good boy, Anthony...” he whispered against Crowley’s neck as he moved his hand. “So good, so sweet...can you come for me, my love? Come for your angel...”

Crowley whined.”Yes...angel...yes...A...AZIRAPHALE!” He came over Aziraphale’s hand. The magician kissed his cheek.

“Good, good boy. My turn to be praised next time.”

“Anything...love you so fucking much...”

A knock on the door made Crowley turn round. “Yeah?”

Anathema’s voice came from behind the closed door. “I am seeking the whereabouts of one Aziraphale Fell, my neighbor and friend, who I believe to be in the clutches of the notorious Serpent! Have you seen him?”

Giggling, Crowley yelled back. “Yeah, but you’ll have to give us a sec!” He reached across Aziraphale and grabbed a handful of wet wipes from the table, cleaning them up as best as he could. They got dressed, and Crowley snuggled up to Aziraphale. “Not getting off your lap. You’re perfect for cuddling.” He whispered. “You can come in!”

Anathema breezed in, beaming at the sight in front of her. “Aww, you two are so adorable!” Before either man realized what was happening, she whipped out her phone and snapped a picture.

“Ana, that better not show up on your Facebook.” Aziraphale growled. Crowley shivered.

“Nah, this is for me. Well, Zira, I was going to ask if you wanted to grab some dinner, but I can see you’re otherwise occupied.”

Aziraphale looked thoughtful. “Actually, dinner sounds lovely. Anthony?”

Crowley shrugged. “Yeah, I could eat, and I would like to get to know you better.” He directed that least bit to Anathema. “But I know from experience that going out with a couple and being alone is not fun, so...NEW GUY! GLASSES! GET IN HERE!”

The young man that Aziraphale had seen earlier came in. “Yessir?”

Crowley waved a hand. “New Guy, this is Ana. Ana, New Guy.”

Ana rolled her eyes and smiled at the man. He was pretty cute in a dorky sort of way. “I’m Anathema Device. You are?”

“Uh..Puston Newsifier, I mean Pewton Nelsifier, I..Newton. Newton Pulsifier. But everyone calls me Newt. I’m...uhh...stage hand.” He shoved his hand in Ana’s face, then pulled back , blushing. “Anathema’s a lovely name.”

“Thank you. Newt? Would you like to join us for dinner?”

“Y..Yeah! I’d like that. Err...if it’s okay.”

Anathema grinned. She liked this guy. “Wouldn’t invite you if it wasn’t.”

Twenty minutes later found the foursome seated at a table in a very nice seafood place(Aziraphale had waxed rhapsodic about their snapper), four glasses of wine in front of them. Conversation flowed, and every few minutes loud laughter could be heard. Crowley took a sip of wine. “So, Ana, what do you do?”

“I’m a consultant. I look at businesses and predict which ones will succeed and which will fail.”

“Yeah? You any good?”

Ana preened. “Depends if you call a 98% success rate good.”

Crowley’s jaw dripped. “That’s not good, it’s phenomenal. Do you have insider secrets or something?”

“No, just a knack for this sort of thing. There’s a legend in my family that my ancestor Agnes Nutter could also predict things that came true. She even wrote a book right before she exploded.”

“Exploded?!” Crowley yelped. Aziraphale laughed.

“Well, from what Ana’s told me, Agnes knew the time and date of her death, so she packed her petticoats full of gunpowder and roofing nails and let herself be burned as a witch. Naturally, when the fire hit the powder...KABLOOEY.” Aziraphale made an exploding gesture. “Took out everyone that had gathered to watch her burn as well as several miles of the surrounding countryside.”

Crowley gulped. “Yes, well, can we move on to something else? Like maybe getting some food?”

After a very lovely dinner, Anathema and Newt decided that they wanted to spend some time together. Crowley and Aziraphale bade them goodbye before heading off, their arms around each other. “M glad they hit it off.” Crowley said, pulling Aziraphale close. The magician nodded.

“Same. Anthony?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” He gently pressed Aziraphale against a nearby wall, kissing him. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”

“Anthony...your phone is buzzing.”

Crowley groaned and pulled out his phone. “Whoever this is, it better be important.” He blinked, then switched from English to French.

“ _Bee? What’s wrong, little one?”_

“ _No, they don’t talk to me. You know that. Maman made it very clear when I left that I was no longer their son.”_

“ _Bee, little buzz, calm down. I can get you money if you need it. Are you in any danger?”_

“ _Okay, that’s good to know. Can you stay with Dagon for a few days?”_

“ _Alright, little buzz. I’ll wire the money as soon as I can. I love you too.”_

Crowley hung up, placing his phone back in his pocket. Aziraphale looked at him, concerned. “Everything okay?”

Crowley sighed. “No.. Maman and Papa are threatening to cut Bee off from their bank account. They don’t have one of their own, so they have to use our parents, and they can’t find a job in this bloody economy. I’ve sent them money before, so they can pay rent, but they fell behind and their landlord kicked them out.”

“Oh, that’s horrible!”

Crowley nodded. “Yeah, luckily for them there’s Dagon. She and Bee were a major item back in high school, and they both still care a lot about each other. Dagon’s like a second sister to me, and she’ll do anything for Bee. Her real name’s Daisy, but call her that and she’ll punch your lights out.”

Aziraphale giggled. “So, your sibling, who is literally called Bee, falls for someone with a flower name? That’s rather appropriate.”

Crowley laughed. “Yeah, it is. Hey, Angel? Would you...do you want to go back to my place?”

Aziraphale kissed him. “I’d love to.”

**Two hours later**

Aziraphale fell back, panting. “Ohh..god Anthony...you’re so good to me.” 

Crowley smirked down at him. “Only the best for you, my love. How are you doing?”

“M okay. A bit sore, but that’s most likely due to the fact that I just had my brains fucked out of my head. Now, stop fussing like a mother hen and come here so I can kiss you.”

Giggling, Crowley obliged. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone, you know? Never seen someone and just thought, ‘Yes. He’s the one I will spend the rest of my life with.’ Never felt so...deeply. I always feel like I’m going too fast, like there’s no one that can match my pace, and then along you come and blow me away. After thirty eight years, I found the love of my life.” 

Aziraphale smiled through his tears. “Only took me forty two. But I know exactly what you mean. I think maybe I was gone on you the minute I saw you slither onto the stage. It’s crazy, we’ve only known each other for three days, yet I can’t imagine my life without you in it. Anthony, I am in this for the long haul. Through everything. I am all in, 100%. Nothing could make me leave. I want to be your lover, your partner, your...I want to be yours.” 

“Oh, my angel...you are. And I am yours.” 


	5. Comfort and Cuddles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale has a Bad Day. Lucky for him, he has Crowley.

Chapter Five: Comforts And Cuddles

Aziraphale stirred, stretching his arms above his head, and yawned. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes, looking around the room with a dopey, sleepy smile on his face. He really hadn’t had the chance to take in Crowley’s flat the night before, so eager had he been to get to the bedroom and the very large and luxurious bed.

He could hear the sound of a shower running, and he slid out of bed, following the sound down a corridor and into one of the most plush bathrooms he’d ever seen. The shower took up half the room, and Aziraphale could see his lover’s svelte outline through the frosted glass. He walked over and opened the door, frowning in mock dismay at Crowley. “You’re very rude, taking a shower and not inviting me to join you.”

Crowley grinned and held out his arms. “You looked so adorable sleeping that I didn’t want to wake you, Angel. But you’re more than welcome to join me.” Aziraphale stepped into the shower, and Crowley kissed him. “Morning, my love. Did you sleep well?”

Aziraphale nibbled Crowley’s neck. “Better than I have in a very long time. That bed is sinfully comfy.” He slid his hand down and caressed Crowley’s cock. “Of course, it helped that I had you next to me.”

Crowley groaned as Aziraphale worked him. “Gu...Fuck...Angel...your hands...so good...A...ANGEL!” Crowley leaned back against the shower wall, panting. “God baby, you are so fucking good...” he slurred. Aziraphale grinned.

“Thank you. You know, I never did get the grand tour last night. We were both rather focused on...other things.” The magician giggled, and Crowley chuckled.

“Yeah, we were a bit. Tell you what, let’s get cleaned up and I’ll show you around.”

“What a lovely idea.”

After they washed, dried, and dressed, Crowley showed Aziraphale around his flat. It was very minimalist, with solid furniture(“It’s a lot comfier than it looks, /Angel, I go for the look more than anything”) some paintings, a statue of what appeared to be an angel and a demon engaged in some sort of activity(Crowley, with a smirk on his face, said they were wrestling, which Aziraphale did not buy for a second) a very modern kitchen with very little food(“I’m a shit cook. Burn water, me. I get a lot of takeout”) a gigantic flat screen(“Gotta watch Golden Girls. Can’t miss it, and if you tell anyone that’s my favorite show, I’ll deny it.”)

The only thing that the flat seemed to have an abundance of was plants. They were in every available space, making Aziraphale feel like he was walking through some strange sort of jungle. They were large, green, and luxurious. “Are these all yours?”

Crowley preened in pride. “Yep. Trick is discipline. Yelling at them makes them grow like that. You’d be surprised how cathartic it can feel to yell at something that can’t yell back.”

Aziraphale smiled softly. “No, I really wouldn’t. Sometimes you have to let out all the emotions, and you don’t want anybody to see you do it.”

Crowley pulled him into a tight hug. “How the fuck did I get so lucky, my angel? How did I spend so many years not knowing you and then suddenly have you drop into my life and turn it completely upside down?”

“I keep asking myself the same thing, my love. My whole life, I was convinced that romance and love were for others, not for me. I was too old fashioned, too fastidious, too bookish. I tried going out a few times, but the dates never ended well. Then you slither onto the stage and right into my heart. The sex is mind blowing, of course, but do you want to know the best thing that’s happened so far?” Crowley nodded. “Last night, when we held each other before falling asleep, and you whispered that you were never letting me go, and you smiled. It was such a pure smile, my love, and it was everything. The way you look at me, even when we aren’t in bed, is everything.”

“Angel, you look at me as if I hung the stars. Your smile, it lights up even the darkest room. You’re sweet, and soft, and god...so, so very beautiful. The way you touch me when we make love makes my head spin, and the little snuffling sound you make when you’re asleep is absolutely precious. Your hair is a goddamn halo, and I love burying my fingers in it. You’ve become my everything, Aziraphale, and I love you so fucking much.”

Aziraphale blinked at him, then dragged him over to the sofa, shoved him down and climbed into his lap for a long snog session.

“So, any plans for today?” Crowley asked when they finally came up for air. Aziraphale shook his head. “Hmm..well, how about we go to St. James? We could feed the ducks, people watch, maybe catch a free concert...” Aziraphale blinked at the last bit. “Oh yeah, seems that the local orchestra is putting on free concerts every Saturday, and from what I hear, the place where the concerts are held is a really nice section, and this week it’s Beethoven, and I seem to recall that you may have mentioned he’s your favorite, so...”

“That sounds marvelous.”

Crowley grinned. “Right. Well, that’s not until five, so before that...we’re going to lunch, then we’ll see what happens from there.”

Aziraphale laughed. “We will indeed.”

After what was, in Aziraphale’s mind, one of the most perfect days ever(the weather stayed gorgeous the whole day, Crowley took him to a delicious sushi place, and the concert was wonderful) the magician shyly made the suggestion that they go back to his place. Crowley was more than happy to oblige.

Aziraphale unlocked the door, stepping aside so the illusionist could enter. He stepped in behind him, closed the door and flipped on the lights. “I know it’s rather cluttered compared to your flat, I keep meaning to go through all the books and toss what I don’t read anymore, but the trouble is I can’t bring myself too, and...”

“It’s perfect, Angel. It’s you.” Crowley took in the shabby furniture, the piles of books strewn everywhere, and smiled. “It’s...homey.”

“Oh, thank you. Umm..would you like some wine? I’ve got some pretty decent reds.”

Crowley gently grasped his chin, tilted his head up, and kissed him. “Later for the wine, my sweet. I have something else in mind.”

Aziraphale placed his hand on Crowley’s chest, smiling up at him. “Funny, I was thinking the same thing. Would you like to see my bedroom, darling?”

“I’d love that.”

**Two Weeks Later**

Aziraphale didn’t wake up so much as come into painful awareness. He would have screamed, but everything hurt too much. Fuck, even his hair hurt. He laid in bed, tears flowing as he struggled to breath normally. With a herculean effort, he managed to grab his phone off the nightstand. It took him nearly ten minutes to get it unlocked, then another ten to dial Crowley’s number.

It rang twice before Crowley picked up. “Hey Angel.” The softness in his voice made Aziraphale whimper. “Aziraphale? Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Hurt...so much...” Aziraphale cried, yelping as a spasm hit. “Need you...”

He could hear Crowley moving around. “Okay, okay sweetheart, I’m on my way. I’ll be there in ten minutes, okay? Can you wait that long?”

“I don’t...FUCK...have much of a choice. Just hurry, please.”

“I am, mo chridhe. I’m heading out right now. I’m coming, love.”

Aziraphale ended the call and fell back onto the bed, tears flowing. He hadn’t had a day this bad in a very long time. His whole body was spasming, and he knew that if he tried to stand, he would collapse.

“Aziraphale?!” Crowley’s voice was a balm to the magician’s ears.

“B..Bedroom.” He managed to choke out. Crowley appeared in the door seconds later.

“Oh, mo chridhe...” Crowley came over, sitting next to him, and stroked his hair. “It’s bad today.” Aziraphale nodded, sobbing. “Where’s your meds?”

“Bathroom. I...t...take them with….yogurt...”

“I’ll be right back, sweetness.” Crowley went into the bathroom, pulling out the bottle. He shook two pills into his hand, then went into the kitchen and found an opened container of vanilla yogurt. He spooned it into a bowl that was on the counter, then went back into the bedroom. “Think you can sit up, sweetheart?”

Aziraphale struggled, and Crowley helped him, sitting behind him so the magician could lean against him. “There we go.” He spooned some yogurt, pressing one pill inside. “First one.” Aziraphale opened his mouth, and Crowley fed him. “Swallow, darling.”

Aziraphale did, and Crowley fed him the second yogurt covered pill. “I hate when I have days like this.”

“Me too. I’m...saying I’m more used to it sounds awful, but...”

Aziraphale laid his hand on Crowley’s knee. “You were born with your dysplasia, my love. It’s not too surprising that you’d be used to it by now. I’ve only had to deal with this for the last ten years.”

Crowley kissed the top of his head. “Believe me, flare ups are no fun. I had that bad one last week, remember?”

Aziraphale nodded. Crowley could barely walk. They had spent the day in his flat, Aziraphale gently massaging his stiff legs. “Anthony? Would you...be averse to giving me a massage?”

Crowley frowned. “Well, I don’t know. A chance for me to put my hands all over my gorgeous lover? How can I pass that up?” Aziraphale giggled.

“Darling, don’t make me laugh. I am in far too much pain.”

Crowley smiled gently. “Well, let’s see what I can do to make the pain go away.” He re positioned himself so that he was facing Aziraphale then pulled down the covers, placing his hands on the magician’s trembling legs. His long fingers dug into the muscle, and Aziraphale howled in pain. “I know, baby, I know. It’s gonna hurt, and I am so sorry about that. If you want me to stop, say the word, and I will.” Aziraphale nodded, and Crowley dug in again. This time the pain was less, and Aziraphale felt himself melting beneath his lover’s skilled hands. “Better?” Crowley asked.

“Much. I’m sorry, though.”

“For what, mo chridhe?”

Aziraphale sighed. “I was planning something special for today. It’s our two week anniversary. I know that sounds silly, but...I wanted to celebrate. Nothing real fancy, maybe lunch at the sushi place, but now we can’t even do that because my stupid pain decided to be stupid!” The last word was a sob, and Crowley felt his heart twist. He leaned over and kissed his love.

“Aziraphale, there’s this marvelous thing called takeout. I’ll call the restaurant, order us a ton of sushi, then we can eat it here while listening to some of those old records you have and drinking your fabulous wine. How’s that sound?”

Aziraphale sniffled. “You...won’t mind if I’m in nothing but my tatty old robe?”

Crowley threw his head back, laughing. “I’ve seen you naked, Angel. No, I don’t mind if all you wear is an old robe.”

Aziraphale sagged in relief. “Oh, good. I...think I’m okay to get dressed now.” Crowley helped him climb out of bed. Aziraphale grabbed his robe off the back of a chair and shrugged into it. “Oh, I must look a fright.”

“You look like you always do, which is absolutely beautiful.” Crowley said. “Think you could eat some breakfast? I noticed you have bread. I can at least do toast, and I do make good coffee, as you know.”

Aziraphale sank into a dining room chair with a grunt. “Coffee sounds lovely. And toast would be best, I think.”

“How do you want the toast?”

“Plain. My stomach can’t handle anything sweet right now. And you know how I like my coffee.”

Crowley grinned. “Black as night and bitter as sin.” He dropped a kiss on Aziraphale’s head. “You sit there, my love, and I will make you some coffee and toast.”

The toast came out only a bit burned, but still very edible, and the coffee was delicious. Aziraphale scraped off the burnt bits and took a bite. “Thank you, love.”

“No problem. You feeling better?”

Aziraphale took a sip of coffee, sighing. “Mmm...so good. Yeah, just a bit. Pain’s at a nine. Still, I don’t think I’ll be up to going anywhere.”

Crowley smiled at him over his own cup. “Hence the reason we’re going to get takeout and spend the day listening to records and drinking wine.”

Aziraphale looked down at his plate and suddenly burst into tears. Crowley gaped in shock and ran over to him, kneeling next to the sobbing magician and pulling him into his arms. “Angel, sweetness, what happened?”

“I’m so ...b….boring!”

Crowley blinked in disbelief. “What? No, you’re not.”

Aziraphale nodded. “I am! You deserve to be with someone that can do things whenever they want, not when some stupid chronic pain says they can! You probably had such a fun life before I came along, and now you have to put up with me and my stupid pain and my...stupid everything!”

Crowley stroked the magician’s face. “Mo chridhe...I didn’t **have** a life until you came along. You are not stupid. You are the best of everything. I love you, and nothing will ever change that. I live with pain too, sweetheart. But you make it better, make it so it’s not all I think about. These past two weeks, I’ve been in paradise, and I like to think you feel the same.”

“Yeah.” Aziraphale said, swiping his eyes. “You know I do.”

“Then stop beating yourself up I am with you, and I love you.”

“I love you too.” Aziraphale placed his hand over Crowley’s. “Anthony? Would you...take me back to bed? Not for sex. I just...I want you to hold me.”

“Of course, my love.” Crowley kissed Aziraphale on the forehead, then stood and led him back to the bedroom.

Aziraphale disrobed and climbed into bed. Crowley kicked off his shoes and joined him, wrapping himself around his softness. “Y’re so warm, Angel.”

“You too.” Aziraphale gazed into the gorgeous gold eyes. “I am sorry for my outburst. It’s just, sometimes I get overwhelmed by the fact that you chose me, of all people.”

Crowley kissed his nose. “Funny, I get that same feeling. I landed myself an angel.”


	6. Solace From The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley's turn for comfort.

Chapter Six: Solace From The Storm

There was another hellacious crash from outside, and Crowley whimpered, curling in on himself. So loud so loud it was so loud! He bit his lip, firmly telling himself that he was a grown man, for Someone’s sake, and grown men did not hide under their blankets whenever there was a thunderstorm. He peeked out, only to dive back in with a cry as another roll of thunder sounded, this one powerful enough to shake the building. Why hadn’t he spent the extra pounds to have his flat soundproofed? He had been sure that it wasn’t necessary. But now, as he curled into a fetal position beneath a mountain of blankets, shaking like a leaf, he wished he had gone for it.

He reached out to his nightstand and grabbed his phone, hoping that maybe some mindless scrolling through Twitter would help ease his mind. He unlocked it, smiling to himself when he saw he had a text from Aziraphale.

‘Hey. How are you? This storm is something else!’

Crowley gulped. What would Aziraphale say if he knew Crowley was hiding under his covers like a small child? Would he laugh? Would he tell Crowley to grow up, that thunder couldn’t hurt him? He typed his answer, his fingers shaking.

‘I’m really, really scared I know it’s stupid but thunder scares me and I really wish you were here because then I wouldn’t b scared/

Seconds later, his phone dinged. He read the three words that Aziraphale sent, his heart pounding.

‘I’m coming over.’

Crowley sniffled, wiping his eyes.

Ten minutes later, he heard the most beautiful sound in the world. Aziraphale’s voice, calling his name. “In here, Angel.”

Aziraphale walked into the bedroom, and Crowley felt the bed creak a tiny bit as he climbed on. A warm hand rested on his blanket cover. “Crowley? Darling, I’m here.” Crowley slithered out from under the covers and wrapped himself around his angel, shaking. Aziraphale hugged him back, running his hands down Crowley’s spine. Oh. Oh, that was nice. “I’m here, love. You’re safe now.”

“Stupid.”

“Hmm?”

Crowley snuggled closer to his angel’s warmth, breathing in his scent. “Little kids are scared of thunder, not men in their fuckin’ thirties.” A titanic crash resounded, and Crowley howled in fear, trying to bury himself in Aziraphale. The magician stroked his hair, whispering soothing words in his ear.

“It’s okay, darling, I’ve got you. I’ve got you. You don’t need to be scared, darling. I’m here, you’re safe, and I’m here. Were you always afraid of thunder?”

Crowley sniffled, nodding. “Papa would tell me I was a sissy, that real men weren’t scared of a bit of noise, and once he locked me outside during a real bad storm, told me to get used to the noise.”

Aziraphale growled. “What an ass!”

Crowley nodded. “Wasn’t the worst thing he’d do. Y’know how my trigger is loud noises?” Aziraphale hummed in confirmation. “S mainly from growing up how I did. The house was always loud, and not the good sort of loud. Y’know, laughter, stuff like that. You walk into my house at any given time and you’d just as likely see dishes being thrown as you would hear my parents screaming at each other. When Papa was in his cups, he lashed out physically, and I was his favorite target. I protected Bee from as much as I could. Neighbors called the cops on my parents a lot, but nothing ever came of it.”

Aziraphale kissed the top of his head. “Oh, love...”

Crowley sighed, leaning up into his touch. “Maman wasn’t any better. She could yell just as loud, and she had wicked aim. She once threw a set of china at Papa’s head, and the only reason he didn’t end up in hospital was because he ducked at the last minute.” The illusionist shivered at a memory. “When I...when I came out as genderfluid, she went ballistic. Screamed at me for what seemed like hours, telling me that I was a degenerate, that I was an abomination, a disgrace, and that she would not have a creature like me in her house. She already hated me for my eyes.” Aziraphale gasped. “Yeah, she never came out and said it, but I heard her talking to my Aunt once, telling her that my eyes were a sign that there was something wrong with me. Papa took her side, and I found myself homeless at fifteen.”

“Did you have anywhere you could go?”

Crowley shook his head. “The only family I had besides them was my cousin Luke, and he wasn’t an option. He was...not a good person. I managed to locate a shelter for queer youth, though, and through them was able to keep going to school. The person in charge even got me the theater job.”

“Well, at least you were able to find the help you needed. You said earlier that you’re genderfluid?”

Crowley nodded. “Yeah. I just...um...haven’t worn any dresses around you because I’m petrified about how you’ll react.”

Aziraphale kissed him. “Oh, I wish you would. I can only imagine how breathtaking you would be. Wear one next time we go out? Please?”

Crowley’s eyes lit up in happiness. “Really? You...want me to?”

Aziraphale kissed him again. “Of course I do, you silly serpent. You look breathtaking in men’s clothes, I cannot imagine how delectable you would look in a full length dress.”

Crowley blinked, then attacked Aziraphale’s mouth, pulling him into a deep kiss. The magician kissed back just as deeply, twining his hands in Crowley’s hair. “Love you so much, angel...”

“I love you too.”

Crowley pushed his angel down onto the pillows, never breaking the kiss. He fisted his hands in Aziraphale’s shirt(tartan, of course it was tartan) pushing it up. Aziraphale raised his arms over his head, and Crowley pushed the shirt off, tossing it aside before taking his own nightshirt off with one hand. He placed his splayed palm on Aziraphale’s chest, right where his heart was, then took Aziraphale’s hand and placed it over his heart. “Mo chridhe, I could spend hours telling you how deeply I love you, and it would not be enough. So let me show you instead. Let me worship you, my dearest love.”

Aziraphale nodded, and Crowley kissed him, sweet and slow. “My love...my angel...you are my sun, my moon, and my stars. You are the reason I wake up and the reason I live. You see me, every bit of me, and you love me still. You came here to comfort me at this late hour, when you could have just stayed home.”

“I would never, Anthony. You needed me.”

Crowley kissed his chest, sucking on a nipple, and Aziraphale moaned. “I always need you, my angel. You have become the rhythm of my heart. I didn’t live until I knew you, and I will go mad if I were to ever lose you. You are perfection, you are an angel given human shape, and I will never, ever stop loving you.” Crowley whispered, kissing his way down Aziraphale’s chest. Outside, the storm still raged, but Crowley’s mind was on other things. The beautiful sounds his angel was making were drowning out the thunder. He reached Aziraphale’s trousers and nosed him through the fabric. Aziraphale yelped, bucking up. “Anthony...” he whined in a strangled voice. Crowley kissed him through the tartan, and Aziraphale yowled.

“Anthony...please...”

Crowley pulled down the soft, cottony trousers, licking his lips as his prize was revealed. Fuck, his angel had such a perfect cock. He kissed the tip, smiling to himself at Aziraphale’s breathless moan. He licked it, and Aziraphale howled.

“S..stop being a fucking tease and suck me!”

Crowley grinned and swallowed him down, working his throat muscles to pull him in deep, and Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s hair in a death grip. Crowley gave a harsh, hard suck, and Aziraphale shrieked in pleasure, twisting his hands in Crowley’s hair in a grip so tight it was nearly painful.

Crowley worked him, his tongue, lips, and teeth moving. He knew just how to make Aziraphale fall apart, how to make him scream with pleasure. Aziraphale was babbling above him. “Yes fuck oh fuck Crowley so fucking good your mouth so sweet so hot fuck harder suck me harder want to fuck that pretty mouth...” Whining, Crowley grabbed Aziraphale’s hands, moving them in his hair. Aziraphale got the message, and began to move, fucking into Crowley’s mouth. “Yes my love you take my cock so well darling yes yes oh look at you, mouth so full of me you’re so gorgeous when you’re like this...love you so much my darling boy….” Aziraphale came with a loud cry. Crowley swallowed every delicious drop, then ripped his own pants off and climbed onto Aziraphale, whining hard. Aziraphale smiled at him and placed a hand on Crowley’s throbbing cock. “So gorgeous, my love. What do you want?”

“Wan...want to ride you.” Crowley whined, lining himself up. Aziraphale stroked his chest.

“But I thought you wanted to worship me?”

Crowley nodded. “Is worship. Need you inside.” He cried out in ecstasy as he lowered himself onto his angel’s throbbing cock. “T..touch me...” He whimpered, and Aziraphale took him in hand and stroked him. Crowley moaned and began to move. Aziraphale clutched his hip with one hand and began thrusting up. “Love you...so much...”

“I love you too, my darling, my dear, you look so beautiful above me, coming apart so wonderfully under my touch, you feel so good around my cock, but then you always feel so good, you’re so perfect, all mine, my golden serpent, my illusionist, mine...” Aziraphale pounded up into him, Crowley’s cries of pleasure music to his ears. Crowley writhed above him, his head thrown back as he chased his pleasure. “Don’t close your eyes, darling, look at me, I want to see those beautiful eyes.”

Crowley looked down at Aziraphale. The magician linked their hands together, and Crowley felt his heart grow even more. How was it possible that he was falling even more in love with the gorgeous man beneath him? “Aziraphale...love you...so...m...much...I’m so close, my angel...”

Aziraphale wrapped a hand around his cock, pumping. “Come undone for me, my serpent. Come for me, my love, my sweet, sweet darling boy...”

And Crowley did. He threw his head back and shrieked Aziraphale’s name, the sound eclipsing even the thunder outside. Aziraphale came seconds later, Crowley’s name escaping from his mouth in a loud howl. The illusionist collapsed against his lover’s chest, panting hard. “Th...thank you for coming over.”

Aziraphale kissed him. “You’re welcome, and now you have a better memory to associate with storms.”

Crowley smirked at him. “Does this mean you’ll come over for a fuck whenever there’s a storm?” Aziraphale rolled his eyes.

“Anthony, I will come over for a fuck in the middle of the afternoon if you want.”

Crowley kissed him, then went into the bathroom and returned with a wet cloth. He cleaned them both up. “I know you would. But that’s...that’s not what you are to me, you know?”

Aziraphale gently tugged on a fiery red lock. “I know. You’ve proven that over and over these last few weeks. Now, come on to bed. I think I shall stay the rest of the night. In case there’s another storm.”

Crowley moved into Aziraphale’s open arms. “Yeah, good idea.” He snuggled up, yawning. “Ziraphale?”

“Yes?”

“L’ve you.”

“I love you too.”

**Three Days Later**

Crowley stood in front of his closet, a small smile on his face. Aziraphale was treating him to dinner, and had asked via text for Crowley to wear a dress. The magician wouldn’t say where they were going, but did say that it was ‘not as classy as The Ritz, but not a fast food joint.’ With that info, Crowley had gone hunting.

He pulled out a dress that he thought would work. It was a deep red, with sequins sewn into it in a way that made it sparkle and shine when it caught the light. It had a knee length slit up one side, and a plunging back line. The neck plunged just enough to show off Crowley’s chest, and the sleeves ended just below his shoulders. He selected a necklace to go with it-a golden serpent coiling in on itself-then slipped on a pair of black heels and headed out the door towards Aziraphale’s block of flats.

He met Anathema on the staircase. She blinked, then grinned. “Man, that’s not fair. You look better in that than I would.”

Crowley smirked at her. “Well, some of us look good in anything. How you doing?”

“Great.”

“That’s good to hear.” They walked upstairs, Crowley’s heels clacking. “How’s things with Newt going?”

Ana smiled. “Really good. He’s so sweet. Yesterday he made me lemon cookies, I mean biscuits, with icing. He’s a really good baker.”

Crowley blinked. “Really? Huh, didn’t know that. Has he told you about his curse yet?”

Ana laughed. “You mean the tech thing? Yeah. I didn’t believe it at first, but then he somehow managed to fry his phone dialing for Thai. So we have a rule now that when he comes over, he’s not allowed to touch anything remotely techy.”

“Good rule. There’s a reason he’s the stage hand. It’s the one job that doesn’t rely on computers.” Ana cackled.

They stopped in front of Aziraphale’s door. Ana grinned at Crowley before knocking. “ZIRA! YOU’VE GOT A VISITOR!”

The door opened seconds later. “Ana, what on...GUH.” Aziraphale gaped at Crowley. The illusionist smiled softly.

“You like?”

“Guh...buh...wuh...um...” Aziraphale’s jaw flapped, and Crowley gently placed a finger under his chin, pushing his mouth closed. Ana laughed.

“Well, you kids have fun! Anthony, you look great. Maybe by the end of the evening Zira will be coherent enough to tell you himself.” Ana breezed into her flat. Crowley grinned at the gobsmacked magician.

“So, dinner?”

“Huh?” Aziraphale was nearly drooling. He took a deep breath, shaking himself. “You um...you’re fucking gorgeous.”

Crowley blushed, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers. “There’s um...when I’m in dresses, I prefer to present female. Is that...okay?”

“Of course. She/her pronouns?” Crowley nodded. “Do you...call yourself something else?”

“Tonya. But you can still call me Anthony, if you want to.”

Aziraphale frowned. “But Tonya is a beautiful name, and right now you’re Tonya, so that is what I will call you.”

Crowley blushed anew. “So where are we going?”

Aziraphale smiled. “You remember that steakhouse we went to on our second official date? I thought we’d go there again.”

“Sounds perfect, Angel.”

Dinner was wonderful, and after a very nice dessert, Crowley and Aziraphale decided that it was too nice a night to head back home, so they walked down the streets, arm in arm.

“Tonya?”

“Hmm?”

Aziraphale turned to face her. “You should wear dresses more often, love. You look absolutely gorgeous in them.”

“Yeah?” Aziraphale nodded. “Okay. Um...would you...mind if sometimes I wasn’t a man or a woman?”

Aziraphale tilted his head. “You mean if you were a they?” Crowley blushed, nodding. “Darling, I would love you if you were an aardvark.” Crowley cackled, and Aziraphale grinned. “I love you. All of you. Whether that person is a man, a woman, or both. I love **you.**.”

Crowley blinked, then began sobbing. “N..No one but Bee’s ever accepted me for who I am...I’ve always had to hide it...I have to be ultra masculine for my job...I’ve had to hide away for so long...”

Aziraphale gently swiped away the tears. “I accept you, my sweet serpent.”

Crowley blinked at him. “Aziraphale?”

“Yes?”

“Take me home.”

“Of course.”


	7. Backstage Shenanigans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale's Fantasy comes true, Bee appears, and our boys hit a milestone.

Chapter Seven: Backstage Shenanigans

Aziraphale stood on the empty stage, peering into the darkness. An hour ago, Crowley had texted and asked him to come to the theater and wait for him on the stage. He had gotten in easily enough-the people at the box office knew who he was by now-and now he was waiting, wondering what was going on.

Red lights came up, followed by a sensuous drumming beat that vibrated through the magician’s whole body. “Who daressss to enter The Ssserpentsss Lair will face the consseqqueences,” came a low voice from the shadows, and Aziraphale’s cock jumped to attention. Fuck, but his lover had a downright seductive voice.

A large shadow detached itself from the curtain of shadows and slithered towards him, Crowley’s eyes seeming to glow in the low light. Aziraphale whimpered as Crowley slithered up to him, his body swaying in a hypnotic rhythm. “Looksss like I caught an angel.” The illusionist whispered, licking his lips. “What shall I do with you, hmm?”

“Anything you want.” Aziraphale whispered, mesmerized by the sight of Crowley’s gorgeous body encased in his Naga contraption. His hungry eyes took in every detail-the smooth scales, the muscles that seemed to flex with every sway of Crowley’s hips and legs, the length of him. “You can do anything you want to me.”

“Anything?” Crowley’s voice was low and dangerous, and Aziraphale keened in need. He grabbed the magician around the waist and yanked him forward, undulating against him, and Aziraphale whined. “Anything coversss a lot of ground, Angel. I could eat you, swallow you whole...” he nipped at Aziraphale’s lips, and Aziraphale whined again. Crowley grinned. “But ssomething asss pretty asss you desserves something...else. Ssstrip.”

Whimpering, Aziraphale obeyed, tearing off his clothes with a speed born of horny desperation. Crowley licked his lips, then crooked a finger. “Come back over here, my pretty thing.” Aziraphale nearly threw himself at Crowley, kissing him with raw passion. The illusionist slid his hands under Aziraphale’s arse, giving his cheeks a squeeze that made the magician yelp. Grinning, Crowley lifted Aziraphale. “Wrap your legss around me, baby.” Aziraphale did, groaning, and Crowley kissed him, their tongues tangling together. Crowley slithered forward, every movement making his angel whine and whimper, until he came to the right side of the stage. “Sweetness, there’s a bar right behind you. Think you can grab it?”

Aziraphale groped blindly, finding the bar. It was a little bit above his head, but not so far up that it hurt his arms to hold. He gripped it tight. Crowley stroked his chest, his skilled fingers teasing his nipples, and Aziraphale moaned wantonly, bucking up into his touch. “So gorgeous, mo chridhe. So eager and ready for me. Do you want me to touch you?”

“Yes please Anthony pleasssee…!”

Crowley slid his hand down to Aziraphale’s cock, gently scraping the skin with his nails. Aziraphale let out a moan that Crowley was sure could be heard in the Box Office, but he didn’t give a fuck. His angel looked fucking **delectable** , and Crowley was going to devour every bit of him. He bent down(his flexibility was something he’d always been proud of, and he’d used it many many times in bed) and took Aziraphale in his mouth, sucking hard. The magician howled his name. Crowley sucked him hard, his tongue and teeth scraping the flesh in the way he knew drove his lover insane with lust. Aziraphale was on his tiptoes, his hands digging into the bar above him. Wanton moans and curses were pouring from his mouth in a flood, and Crowley had never seen anything so gorgeous and decadent in his **life.** His own erection was straining against the cool metal of his costume, and he was suddenly very very glad he had made the decision to leave his trousers off. 

Aziraphale’s hips jerked and twitched as he tried to fuck his lover’s mouth. A groan of frustration rose when he couldn’t find a good purchase. Crowley scooted forward, somehow with his mouth full of Aziraphale’s cock, and wrapped an arm around him, pulling him forward. Aziraphale caught on quickly, letting Crowley pull him deeper. He thrust forward, his hips jerking. “Oh god oh my fucking god Anthony my god so good so fucking hot my love I’m so close….” Crowley looked up at the panting, writhing magician and gave one last hard suck. Aziraphale shrieked his name and came down his throat. Crowley moaned happily and swallowed, then lifted himself up so that he was level with his love. “Legs.” Aziraphale wrapped his legs around Crowley’s, a low  continuous whine coming from his mouth. 

Crowley reached down and unlinked the bit of his costume that held his cock at bay, groaning as it was finally set free. “God, Aziraphale, if you had any idea how many times I’ve wanted to do this to you...” He lifted his angel, his fingers tracing the cleft of his arse, and Aziraphale cried out.

“Anthony, please!” The raw need in his voice galvanized Crowley, and he pressed the tip of his cock against the hole.

“You okay without lube, baby?”

“Yes, please, Anthony, I need you...” Aziraphale’s voice was a near whine, and Crowley knew that he wasn’t going to last much longer either. He pushed into his lover’s warmth, head thrown back. Aziraphale keened high in his throat and gripped the bar above him so tight it creaked. “Move...please...” the magician’s voice was lust drunk.

Crowley palmed the remote on the side of the snake, pressing the button that made the contraption undulate. “Ohh...myy...goddd...” Aziraphale’s words were slurred, and he was nearly drooling, his blue eyes almost black with lust. “Anthony...don’t...stop...”

Crowley didn’t think he could even if he wanted to. And he most assuredly did **not** want to. The sensations were nearly overwhelming, the sight of Aziraphale coming so completely, totally undone was beyond erotic. It was beautiful. “God, Aziraphale, mo chridhe, look at you. So wanton, so debased, so spoiled for me. Who would think that a sweet angel like you could make such beautiful, wanton, lustful sounds? Did you imagine this the first time you saw me, my love? Did you imagine me taking you apart while wearing this?”

“Ahhh...ahhh..sss...ahhh...” Aziraphale was beyond coherent speech. He could only hold on with all his might while his oh so skilled lover took him apart piece by piece. “Aa….nn...”

Crowley went harder, faster, and Aziraphale screamed in ecstasy. “AHH AHHH AHH….ANTHONY!!” With a shriek that seemed to shake the rafters, Aziraphale came. Crowley came hard and deep inside him seconds later, Aziraphale’s name pouring from his mouth in a loud shout.

Panting, Crowley rested his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder. Aziraphale let go of the bar, collapsing against him with a ‘whuff’. “You...okay, sweetness?” Crowley gasped, and Aziraphale raised his head and smiled a slow, soft smile.

“I have never felt better in my life. Though I imagine the staff backstage is a bit shocked.”

Crowley grinned. “What staff? I gave them all the day off.” Aziraphale gaped at him. “I’m not letting anyone hear those lovely sounds you make, angel. They would all get jealous.”

Aziraphale blinked, then burst out laughing.

**Later that night**

“I cannot believe you actually did that and are refusing to give me details!” Anathema whispered fiercely. Aziraphale smirked at her. “Come on, at least tell me how it felt!”

“Nice.” 

Ana groaned. “Nice?! That’s all I get? You get to fulfill one of your fantasies with your hot as fuck boyfriend in a  **fucking theater** while he’s dressed as a half snake man and all I get is nice?”

“Very nice. Now hush, the show’s about to start.” Aziraphale turned away from her, giggling at her huff of annoyance. She was fun to tease, because she could give as good as she got and never got malicious. It was a far cry, he thought, from the vicious and mean spirited teasing of his brothers. 

The lights came up and Crowley slithered onto the stage. Aziraphale gulped. God, that morning had seen his fantasy come true and then some. He looked around the theater, smiling to himself. What would they think, all these people, if they knew that the innocent looking professor in the front row had spent his morning having his brains fucked out of his head by the man that was currently on stage? Would they be jealous? Would they scoff in disbelief, or turn green with envy? 

Crowley turned and caught his eye. He winked, then mouthed ‘I love you’. Aziraphale mouthed it back, blowing him a kiss. Smiling, Crowley caught it, placing it against his own lips. 

“God, you two are so romantic it’s sickening.” Ana groaned. 

“This from the woman who told me that she’s already decided on lemon cake for your wedding with Newt.” Aziraphale sniped back, grinning. 

“That’s...different.”

“Is it?” 

Anathema’s silence spoke volumes. 

After the show, Aziraphale headed backstage. He was a regular fixture by now, and Tracy greeted him warmly. “Aziraphale, dear, so lovely to see you. You enjoyed the show, I hope.”

“I always enjoy the show, Madam. Anthony is incredibly talented.” Tracy nodded in agreement. 

“That he is. Well, I’ll let you go, I’ve got lots of things to do. Stop by the canteen for some tea later?”

Aziraphale smiled. “I would be delighted.” He pushed open the door to Crowley’s dressing room, stopping in shock at the sight of another person inside. 

They were short, about five foot five, with dark hair cur in a severe bob, an expression that was trying to look tough but only succeeded in looking scared, and-oddest of all- a hat shaped like a fly on their head. Aziraphale found his voice first. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Could ask you the same thing.” They had a French accent, and Aziraphale could hear a slight lisp. “This is where Anthony works, right?” 

“Yes..and you are…?”

“Bee?” Crowley’s voice came from behind them, and Aziraphale felt himself relaxing. Crowley came into the dressing room. “Bee, what are you doing here? I thought you were staying with Dagon.”

“ _I am. But I wanted to come see you to tell you.”_ Bee said in French. 

“ _Tell me what, little buzz?”_

Bee twisted their hands together. “ _ Dagon’s moving to the States and she asked me to go with her. We’re going to try and make a go of it there.” _

Crowley gulped.  _ “What are you going to do there?” _

Bee grinned and pulled something out of their pocket, handing it to Crowley. It was a dragonfly shaped pendant.  _ “We’re going to be selling those at craft fairs. Dagon’s got an Uncle that can get us a truck and trailer for only $300. Dagon says that we’ll make that money back no problem. And then I can get my own account and not worry about Maman and Papa taking things from me.” _

“ _Oh, little buzz...”_ Crowley said, shaking his head. “Do you think this will work?” 

Bee switched to English. “I don’t know. But I want to be with Dagon. No matter what. She’s my destiny.” 

Crowley sighed and pulled them into a hug. “Well, before you go off, would you mind if I introduced you to the love of my life? Aziraphale, this is my sibling, Bee. Bee, this is my angel, Aziraphale Fell.”

Bee blinked. “Fell? As in, The Amazing Fell?!”

Aziraphale gulped. “Err, yes, but...”

“I saw a clip of you on Youtube! You had that really cool trick where you flew! It was so awesome!”

Aziraphale shut his eyes, shaking. Bee looked at Crowley. “What’s with him?” 

“Little Buzz, you can be amazingly tactless at times. You do know what happened to him?” 

“Yeah, I saw the video of the ‘fall.’ Most of the comments on it think it was staged.”

Aziraphale’s eyes snapped open. “Video? What video?!” 

Bee opened up their phone and pulled up Youtube. “It’s got like, a million hits.” They pulled up the video-titled “Fell Falls-OR DOES HE” and pressed play. Aziraphale’s legs gave out and he sank into the chair, eyes fixed on the video that was recreating the worst moment of his life. 

** Totally fake ** Read one comment. 

** Yeah, like, that’s not even a convincing impact. ** Read another. 

** He probably wanted to retire but they wouldn’t let him, so he had to ‘fall’ It’s totally bogus. **

Aziraphale couldn’t breathe. He clutched at his head, trying to force air through lungs that felt like they were being pressed on by an elephant. No, four elephants. 

“Turn that fucking thing off.” Crowley snarled. Bee did. “Aziraphale? Mo chridhe?”

“I spent six months in the hospital. I nearly died on the operating table four times. I had to have a stent put in to stop the swelling on my brain. My legs were shattered, I couldn’t move my arms without screaming in pain, and even now, I have pain and will have it the rest of my life and those _**motherfuckers think I fucking faked it all just to retire?!”**_

He went into full blown hysterics, tearing at his hair and screaming in incoherent rage and grief. Crowley turned to Bee, eyes blazing in rage.

“Get out.”

Bee looked mortified. “I..I didn’t know, I’m sorry, Anthony, I’m sorry...”

“Bee, I’m asking you to get out because I need to calm Aziraphale down and I can’t do that with you in the room, because right now I am furious with you. I’m not asking you to leave the theater.”

Bee nodded in understanding and left. Crowley knelt on front of the hysterical magician. “Mo chridhe, look at me. It’s me, love. It’s Anthony. Can you look at me?”

Aziraphale, still keening, locked eyes with Crowley. “That’s it, my love. Now, match my breathing. In...out...in...out...” Aziraphale breathed with him, his whimpering becoming less and less. “Okay, you’re doing wonderfully, mo chridhe. Can I hold your hands now?”

Aziraphale removed his hands from his hair and held them out, palms down. Crowley gently cradled them in his own, still speaking in the same soft cadence. “Good, my love. So good. Keep breathing with me...”

“Didn’t fake it.” Aziraphale whimpered.

“Ssshh...I know, my darling. I know. Trust me, most people with brains know you didn’t. Sadly, those people do not frequent the comments section of Youtube conspiracy videos.”

Aziraphale laughed weakly. “This is true.”

Crowley leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “Indeed. You back with me, mo chridhe?”

“Yes. And...I do hope you won’t be too mad at Bee. They didn’t mean anything by it, and I would love to get to know them before they leave for the States.”

Crowley gaped at him. “Th...we were speaking French! How did you…?”

Aziraphale giggled. _“I kept up with my Duolingo lessons.”_

Crowley shook his head, grinning. _“You devious little...god I love you.”_

“ _I love you too.”_

Much later that night, Aziraphale and Crowley lay in each others arms. “I’m still worried for them.” Crowley said, his hands running up and down Aziraphale’s spine. “They’re brave, but bravery only goes so far.”

“Mmm...darling. Bee will be okay. Like they said at dinner, they need a chance to prove themselves.”

“Still, thirty seven is awful late for a life to change that much.”

Aziraphale looked up at him, smiling. “And thirty eight isn’t?”

“Good point.”

Crowley’s mind went to the object he had hidden in his nightstand. The object that could change everything. “Um...Aziraphale? I...have something for you..” He opened the nightstand’s drawer and pulled out a small box, handing it over with a blush.

Aziraphale opened the box, gaping at what was inside. Crowley’s blush was even more pronounced. “A key?”

“It’s um...it’s a copy of the key to the flat...I...wantyoutomoveinwithme.”

Aziraphale blinked. “You...what?”

“Move in with me, there’s more than enough room for all your books and records and I’ll let you paint one whole wall tartan if you want, but um...please?”

“Oh, Anthony...of course!” Aziraphale kissed him, and Crowley sighed in happiness, melting into his touch.

Maybe someday he’d work up the courage to give Aziraphale the **other** box he had hidden.


	8. Serpent's Serenade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moving in Together Day!

Chapter Eight: Serpent’s Serenade

“Do you need this box of paperbacks?” Crowley shouted from the bedroom. He looked down at the large box that had been shoved into the back of Aziraphale’s closet. Inside were some very tatty looking books, many with their spines missing. But Crowley knew that if he simply tossed them into the ever growing “Bin It” pile without asking, Aziraphale would be perturbed.

Crowley was still not quite sure that he wasn’t dreaming. Aziraphale was moving in with him. They were going to **live** together. They would see each other every morning and every night. Aziraphale would be there to hold him whenever there was a thunderstorm, and he could take care of his angel on a Bad Day with snuggles and records. They could-and Crowley felt a strange rumbly happy feeling at this-learn to cook dinner together.

“What’s that, love?” Aziraphale came into the bedroom, dressed in what he deemed ‘casual’ wear(a button up shirt and no coat,and beige slacks) and Crowley felt his heart flutter.

“This box full of tatty old books. I know how you are about books, no matter their condition, but these seem rather beyond help. Still, didn’t wanna bin them without getting the okay.” He pushed the box towards the magician, who knelt down.

“Oh, haven’t seen these for a bit. Dear, they are in awful shape, aren’t they. Go ahead and bin them.”

Crowley looked a bit shocked. “You sure?”

“I’m sure. None of them are rare, and I can find better copies in other secondhand shops.”

“Where, um…?”

Aziraphale sighed, pushing the box away. “I took them with me when I moved out, well, was kicked out. Father always hated my reading. Not the fact that I read, mind you, but the fact that I was...selective in my choices. You know what a voracious reader I am.”

Crowley did. Many nights that Aziraphale stayed at his flat, the magician would curl up next to him with a book and read until he fell asleep. Crowley found it precious. “I take it your dad wasn’t big on that.”

“Well, when the son of a preacher is reading material like Lady Chatterly’s Lover, you can imagine what the reaction is. Father’s idea of proper literature began with the Bible and ended with Jonathan Edwards, and anything else was the work of the devil. Mother was a bit more expansive, thank goodness. Still, she was very much under Father’s thumb, so we had to hide some of our books.”

“Your mom doesn’t sound too bad.”

Aziraphale snorted. “Trust me, she was. We had a tentative bond over our love of reading, but when she found out I was gay, that shattered. She’s the sort that has to have everything be just so. To have a gay son threw her entire perfect world out of orbit, and she hated that.”

“Yeah, know that feeling. Maman had this idea of me as the perfect son in her head, and when I was born with my eyes and the dysplasia, she pretty much decided I wasn’t worth it. Then she had Bee, and they came out almost perfect, with Maman’s dark hair and eyes. Maman treated them like a little doll to play dress up with rather than a daughter, and Bee hated every minute of it. They were a tomboy, and being forced to wear dresses and lace and act like this sweet little girl really messed with their head. They went through a serious rebellious phase in high school Drugs, drinking, that sort of thing.”

Aziraphale placed a hand on Crowley’s shoulder. “What did your parents do?”

Crowley snorted. “What they always did when things weren’t perfect. Blamed each other, blamed us. Neither tried to do anything to help Bee, or to even listen to them.” He took a deep breath. “One night, I got a call from them. They had taken something at one of the clubs they went to, and had had a very adverse reaction. They...” Crowley’s voice hitched. “They had been clinically dead for two minutes before the EMTs could revive them. They were in hospital, and they were so...so scared...they sounded so helpless, so hopeless, and they wanted to...”

Aziraphale hugged his quietly sobbing lover. “Oh, my dear. What did you do?”

“Begged them to reconsider, told them that no matter what, I loved them, and that I didn’t want to know a world without their brilliance in it. Told them that we’d figure things out together, and that even if I wasn’t living at home anymore, that they could come to me no matter what. I talked to the person in charge of the shelter I was at, asked if there was something they could do. There weren’t any beds left, and if Bee tried to leave, they’d just be brought back home. But the shelter head told me about some outreach programs that were made for high school students, and that they didn’t cost anything. So I got Bee into one as quick as I could.” He pressed himself against the magician. “They did really well. Got off the hard stuff, stopped drinking, and then realized that they were non binary. It’s also how they met Dagon. She was a teen counselor there, and they just...well, kind of like you and me. They were really serious, and then Dagon got a scholarship to Oxford. Bee and her talked, and they tried a long distance relationship for a bit, but life happened and they sort of...well, drifted apart. Still kept in touch, but not as much. Then about six years ago, Bee goes on Facebook and sees that Dagon’s moved about a block away from them.”

Aziraphale smiled. “What did they do?”

“Messaged her, asked if she still remembered them, and offered to take her for coffee. Dagon wrote back, said that yes, of course she did, and coffee would be great. I’m pretty sure Bee was floating off the ground when they called and told me.” Crowley pulled out his phone, opening the gallery, and scrolled to a photo. “They sent me that after the coffee date.”

Aziraphale smiled at the photo. Bee was smiling, their arms slung around a woman with dark brown hair and green eyes. The woman was wearing a suit, and also sported a brilliant smile. “They look happy.”

“Yeah. Kind of like us, right?”

Aziraphale kissed him. “Indeed. Now, we’d best get off Memory Lane,. we’ve got much more sorting and packing to do.”

Crowley sighed and stood, grabbing the box of books and carrying it over to the Bin It pile. “Still can’t believe you’re actually moving in with me.”

Aziraphale carefully packed his favorite coat in the box marked ‘Clothes’. “Me neither. I keep pinching myself thinking that this is all a dream, and I’m going to wake up in my lonely bed and life.”

Crowley wrapped himself around the magician from behind, kissing his neck. “It’s real, mo chridhe. I’m real. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” He turned so he was facing Crowley, gazing into the gold eyes he loved so much. “How is it you get more beautiful every time I look at you?”

“Could ask you the same thing, angel. Kiss me?”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “You’re trying to distract me. And it’s working.” He pulled Crowley down by his scarf, kissing him deeply. Sighing, Crowley kissed back, twining his fingers through Aziraphale’s short curls. He brushed the soft lips with his tongue, and Aziraphale moaned, opening up for him.

The flat door banged open. “Aziraphale Fell, if you think you are leaving here without saying goodbye you’ve got… OH GOD I’M GOING TO BE BLIND!” Anathema wailed, covering her eyes. Crowley cackled.

“Hello to you too.”

Ana peeked out from behind her fingers. “Are you two done being mushy?” She asked, a teasing glint in her eyes. In truth, her inner matchmaker(and hadn’t she been surprised to discover that part of her) did a happy little jig at seeing them together. “I can’t believe you’re moving out, Zira. I’m gonna miss you.”

Aziraphale came over and pulled her into a tight hug. “My dear girl, I will be ten minutes away at most. I’m sure Anthony wouldn’t mind you coming for a visit.”

“Nah, i’s cool. You can come over whenever. Just text ahead so you don’t walk in and find Aziraphale buried deep in..”

“CROWLEY!” Both Anathema and Aziraphale shouted, blushing for different reasons. Crowley looked innocent.

“What? I was going to say a book.”

“Book my arse,” Aziraphale muttered. Crowley smirked at him. Anathema rolled her eyes.

“Zira, why do you put up with him?”

Aziraphale pretended to think very deeply. “Hmm, I would have to say it’s because of the way his arse looks in the pants he wears.”

Crowley pretended to look offended. “Really, Angel? Not my looks, or my personality, or even how good I am in bed?”

Aziraphale giggled. “Nope, definitely your arse. It’s a very nice arse.”

Crowley placed his hand over his heart. “Oh! You have wounded me to the quick! Here I thought you cared for me, but now I know you were merely charmed by my arse! The pain of it!”

Laughing, Aziraphale kissed him, giving his arse a squeeze that made Crowley yelp.

Anathema groaned. “Honestly. Zira, I demand a kiss goodbye.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Of course, my dear.” He gave her a tight hug and kissed the top of her head. “I am so glad you were in the stairwell that day. It meant that I got to meet one of the most wonderful people ever, and someone who I am happy to say is, apart from Anthony, my best friend in the world.”

Anathema blinked back tears. “You’d better keep your promise of inviting me over, understand? I expect...weekly Sunday dinners.”

Crowley hoisted a box in his arms. “Well, maybe not right away. But yeah. I’d like to get to be friends with you too, y’know.” He turned to Aziraphale. “Ready?”

Aziraphale squared his shoulders. “I am.”

They carried the boxes down to Crowley’s car, piling them in the boot. Anathema gave him one final hug and kiss goodbye, then Aziraphale got in the car, his heart pounding in joyful anticipation.

One hour later, the men collapsed together on the couch. Crowley’s head lolled onto Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Welcome home, mo chridhe.” They looked out over the sea of opened boxes, the closet that now held both Crowley’s and Aziraphale’s clothes, the piles of books against the wall(“First thing tomorrow we’ll go out and buy shelves”, Crowley promised, earning a very nice kiss), the records in another pile with Aziraphale’s antique but still working phonograph next to them(Crowley’s suggestion at going digital had been met with an indignant huff), and the bottles of wine in the fridge. “How’s it feel?”

“Ethereal. Like I’m floating.”

“Yeah, me too. Hey, um, would you mind if I put on a record?” Aziraphale shook his head, and Crowley went over to the record pile, sorting through it. “No, no, no...ah ha! Perfect.” He placed his selection on the turntable, placing the needle in the grooves. Sinatra filled the apartment. Crowley swayed along to the opening notes, humming, then faced Aziraphale.

“You’re just too good to be true,” he sang with the record, and Aziraphale gasped. Crowley had a **beautiful** voice, a deep, rich tenor that seemed to sink into the magician’s bones. Crowley sauntered forward, a loving smile on his face, and pulled Aziraphale to his feet.

“Can’t take my eyes off of you...” Crowley sang softly, gazing into his love’s cerulean depths. Aziraphale gulped. Crowley kissed him.

“You feel like Heaven to touch...” The illusionist sang, pulling Aziraphale closer and swaying their bodies to the beat of the song.. “I love to hold you so much...”

“You uhh..changed the lyrics,” Aziraphale whispered, nearly overcome, and Crowley winked at him.

“At long last love has arrived, and I thank God I’m alive. You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you.” Crowley sang, stroking Aziraphale’s cheeks. “Pardon the way that I stare...there’s nothing else to compare. The sight of you leaves me weak, there’s no words left to speak. But if you feel like I feel...”

“You know I do, my darling.” Aziraphale whispered, tears freely flowing.

Crowley pressed their foreheads together. “I love you, baby, and if it’s quite alright, I need you baby, to warm a lonely night. I love you baby, trust in me when I say, oh pretty baby, now that I found you, stay, and let me love you...”

The record ended in a hissing, and Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand and dragged him into their bedroom.


	9. A (Not So) Modest Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley has a Very Important Question for Aziraphale...

Chapter Nine: A (Not So) Modest Proposal

Crowley wasn’t sure if he’d ever get used to it. It had been four months since Aziraphale moved in with him, and the illusionist still felt his heart pound with joy when he woke up in the mornings to the magician’s cherubic face. Four months of learning to live in harmony with the man he loved more than life itself. Four months of learning to cook(the first few times were nothing short of unmitigated disasters, but Crowley was getting better). Four months of navigating through good days, okay days, and Bad Days. They both could be stubborn as mules when their pain flared up, and quite a few snarky arguments had been had. But they always made up with kisses, hugs, and promises to do better.

He stroked Aziraphale’s hair, smiling to himself when he stirred under Crowley’s touch. Sleepy blue eyes looked into his, and Crowley’s heart gave the special flutter that was reserved only for this perfect being in bed with him. “Hi.” He drawled softly, smiling at his love.

“Hello.” Aziraphale said, voice still dopey from sleep. Crowley kissed him on the forehead.

“How’d you sleep, mo chridhe?”

Aziraphale stretched and yawned. “Wonderfully, with you by my side. But then I always do.” He sat up and kissed Crowley on the cheek before pulling him into an embrace. Crowley went willingly, breathing in the scent of his angel. “I love you so much, Anthony.”

“As do I love you, Aziraphale. You are the light of my life.”

Aziraphale hummed against him. “Thank god for Anathema’s stubbornness, or I may have gone my whole life without ever knowing you.”

Crowley laughed. “Yes, thank god for that. That first time I saw you, I nearly fumbled my act because I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. You stood out of the crowd in the best possible way. I think maybe I fell a little bit in love with you from the stage, and then seeing you in my dressing room only made me fall even more. Then that day-I fell so hard and so fast.”

Aziraphale turned so he could look into the golden eyes. “I fell for you the moment you slithered onto that stage. You must know how gorgeous you are in that costume, and then when I got to know how incredibly kind, funny, and sweet you are I knew that I would love you for the rest of my life. Now here we are, four and a half months later, living together.”

Crowley smiled. “I never thought I would have this, you know? Never thought I’d wake up to someone that loved me, that wanted to be with me, that wasn’t using me for sex, or to boost their ego, or just tolerated me until the next pretty thing came along. But now that I have it, I am going to do all in my power to keep it. I love you so damn much.”

Aziraphale kissed him, and kissed him, and for a few hours, there were no words spoken. There was touching, and caressing, and whispers of love breathed into skin.

**One Week Later**

“So, I have to go into work early today,” Crowley said casually, munching on a piece of toast. “I’m doing something a bit different in my act tonight, and I want to run through it, make sure that it goes off without a hitch.” 

Aziraphale didn’t look up from his book, but Crowley knew he was listening. “That’s fine, love. What’s the act?” 

“Uh...it’s a surprise. That way if it goes pear shaped, you...um...won’t be upset. I hope.” He mumbled the last bit under his breath. 

“I like pears.” Aziraphale said absently, turning a page, and Crowley smiled indulgently at him. “What time will you be going, then?” 

“Right after I finish eating.” Crowley ate the last bit of toast, gulped down his coffee, then walked over and kissed Aziraphale on top of his head. “I’ll see you later tonight, love.”

“See you.” Aziraphale said, eyes still fixed on his book. Chuckling, Cowley ruffled his hair before heading out. Aziraphale huffed, but Crowley caught the ghost of a smile on his lips. 

When he arrived at the theater, Tracy came dashing up to him. “Tracy, please, please tell me you got everything set up. I don’t want anything to go wrong tonight.”

Tracy gave him a look. “And when have you ever known me to disappoint you? Of course everything is ready. Lighting, music, backdrops, everything. The big question is, are you ready?” 

Crowley reached into his pocket, fingering the object that lay inside. “I am. I love him so much, and I want this more than anything. I just...I hope it doesn’t come across as over the top. But then again, I am known for going over the top in my act, so...” he trailed off. Tracy smiled before pulling him into a hug. 

“If I know your man, he’ll love it.” 

Crowley let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Great. So, let’s rehearse.” 

**Later that night**

“So he wouldn’t tell you what he was planning?” Anathema asked. Aziraphale shook his head. 

“No, he would only tell me it was a surprise and that he hoped I liked it. I am pretty eager to find out.” 

The curtains parted, and Aziraphale gaped. Rather than the eerie red lights that marked the Naga’s entrance, there was soft blue lighting. The music too, was different. Aziraphale thought he recognized the tune, but he couldn’t quite place it. 

“The backdrop’s new”, Anathema whispered, and Aziraphale realized she was right. Instead of showing a jungle, it showed a galaxy, swirling with color. 

The biggest shock though, came when Crowley stepped onto the stage. He was wearing a tuxedo, cut to fit him, and Aziraphale had to dig his hands into the seat to keep from leaping onto the stage. Crowley walked to the edge, a mic in his hand. “Uh...ladies and gentlemen, and everyone else, as you can see, I’m not in my usual kit. That’s because this is not my usual show. Those of you who are here will have the special honor of witnessing what I fervently hope will become the greatest moment of my life. But first,  would Aziraphale Fell please come up on the stage?” 

Aziraphale gaped and would have sat there until Doomsday if Ana hadn’t roughly elbowed him and gestured towards the stage. Legs shaking, Aziraphale mounted the steps and came to face Crowley. “What’s...uh...”

Crowley smiled and snapped his fingers. Music started up, and Aziraphale recognized the tune. Crowley took his hand and began singing. 

“I’ll be your dream, I’ll be your wish, I’ll be your fantasy...” A wave of his hand, and the backdrop changed to Crowley in his Naga costume. Aziraphale blushed, giggling, and Crowley smirked, swaying his hips. 

“I’ll be your hope, I’ll be your love, be everything that you need..” The illusionist kissed his hand. Aziraphale blinked back tears. 

“I’ll love you more with every breath, truly, madly, deeply do...” Crowley grabbed Aziraphale and spun him, singing the next bit loudly as the backdrop changed to match. 

“I wanna stand with you on a mountain, I wanna bathe with you in the sea, I wanna live like this forever, until the sky falls down on me...”

The backdrop changed to space again. “And when the stars are shining brightly in the velvet sky, I’ll make a wish send it to heaven and make you want to cry tears of joy for all the pleasure and the certainty that you’re surrounded by the comfort and protection of the highest power...”

“Anthony...” Aziraphale’s voice was thick with happy tears. “What...what is this?” 

Crowley smiled. “This, my love, is the greatest magic there is.” He knelt down. Aziraphale’s heart began pounding, and the pounding grew louder when Crowley pulled a small box out of his pocket. “Aziraphale Zane Fell, you are the most incredible, perfect, and wonderful man I have ever known. Would you do me the great honor of becoming my husband?” 

There was a single space between the moment when Aziraphale registered the words and the moment he threw himself into Crowley’s arms, shrieking “YES YES YES YES YES” at the top of his voice. 

“Great.” Crowley choked out, pulling him into a kiss. They were both vaguely aware of the loud applause, but they paid no attention. 

“So that was the surprise?” Aziraphale whispered against his fiance’s...his **fiance’s** lips. 

Crowley laughed. “Yeah. Bit over the top, I know, but..”

“It was perfect.” Aziraphale mumbled into his mouth. “You are perfect.” Crowley blushed. 

“I’ll love you more with every breath, truly madly deeply do...” he sang softly. 

“Me too, my love. Me too.” 

“If you do not invite me to your wedding I shall be very put out”, Anathema said. The three of them had gone to dinner to celebrate. Aziraphale smiled at her. 

“Well, I was hoping that you would be my Best Person.” 

Anathema’s face lit up. “Really? Not Maid of Honor?” 

Crowley snorted. “We don’t need all that. I’m gonna ask Bee to be my person, and Newt can, I dunno, be a witness.” 

Anathema grinned. “He’d be glad to. And Tracy?”

Crowley laughed. “Would you believe me if I told you she’s licensed to perform weddings? She’s over the moon to perform ours. I mean...unless, mo chridhe, did you want a big wedding?”

Aziraphale smiled. “You know, when I was younger, I used to plan my wedding. I would have irises, and it would be in the backyard of our home, and I’d wear blue. I even had the music picked out. Then after we’d have cakes, and pie, and small plates of food. There would be champagne, and my groom and I would dance to Sinatra. Everything was perfect. There was just one hitch.”

“What’s that?” Crowley asked. 

“My groom was Timothy Dalton. I had quite the crush on him.”

Crowley laughed. “You know, we may not have a backyard, but we do have a park, and I’m sure you could find a blue tux. I’ll even call a catering company I know, see if I can’t get your dream menu.”

Aziraphale wiggled happily. ‘Oh, that would be lovely.”

Ana sighed. “So, when is the big day?” 

Crowley thought. “Hmm...when’s good for you, angel?” 

Aziraphale smiled. “How about the fifth of next month. It’s our five month anniversary.” 

“Perfect. I’ll call Bee when we get home. They don’t leave for the states until the seventh, so that will be perfect.” 

Aziraphale couldn’t stop staring at his ring. It was a simple gold band, with angel wings etched into it. It was the most perfect piece of jewelry he’d ever seen. “So how long have you had this?” 

Crowley came over and plopped himself in Aziraphale’s lap. His own engagement ring-a black band with red serpents-glinted in the light. “Oh, you know, not long...about a week after I met you...”

Aziraphale kissed him. “Oh, sweetheart..”

Crowley laid his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Knew right from the start you were the one for me. You filled up all my empty spaces.” 

“And you filled mine.” Aziraphale kissed him again. “Anthony?”

“Hmm?”

“Take me to bed.”

Crowley smiled. “Of course, my love.”

When they reached the bedroom, they took their time undressing each other, their hands stroking each others skin. Aziraphale lay back on the bed, legs spread wide, stroking his already hard cock. Crowley climbed on top of him, kissing him deeply. “Tell me what you want, mo chridhe. I’ll give you anything you want...” he whispered, taking Aziraphale’s cock in his hand and  stroking. Aziraphale keened in pleasure. 

“I want you, Anthony, I want your mouth, and your hands, and your cock...”

Crowley sucked a kiss into Aziraphale’s neck. “Anything for you, my dearest love...” he began moving down the magician’s body, sucking kisses into every bit of soft flesh. “So beautiful, so perfect, so lovely...I love you so much, Aziraphale, my love, my life, my fiance...” 

Crowley licked the tip of Aziraphale’s cock, smirking to himself at the whine it drew from his love’s lips. “Anthony...I love you...I...ohhhh...” Aziraphale moaned as Crowley swallowed him down. 

Crowley sucked him, reveling in the yips, yelps, and cries of pleasure. Aziraphale’s hips pistoned as he thrust deep into Crowley’s mouth, hitting the back of his throat. Crowley took him deeper, and Aziraphale yowled his name and came. 

Crowley lapped up the bits of come that had dripped onto Aziraphale’s stomach before sitting up on his knees and grabbing the lube from the nightstand. He slicked himself up, then slid two slicked up fingers inside Aziraphale, crooking them in a way that made the magician arch off the bed with a cry. “So gorgeous, mo chridhe..so eager for my cock...” Crowley whispered. Aziraphale whined. 

“Anthony, please..”

Crowley lined himself up and slid inside, groaning in pleasure. No matter how many times he and Aziraphale made love, it would never get old. Aziraphale was always so tight, so hot around him. Crowley kissed him, then began to move, snapping his hips and thrusting hard and deep. Aziraphale cried out and moved with him, their bodies creating a music all their own. 

“I love you I love you I love you I...AZIRAPHALE I LOVE YOU...” Crowley screamed as he came, white lights before his eyes. Aziraphale came moments later, Crowley’s own name echoing. 

After they cleaned up, they lay together, fast asleep, their left hands linked together, the rings glinting in the moonlight. 


	10. We're Going To Have A Wedding!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mawwiage. Mawwiage is what bwings us together today.

Chapter Ten: We’re Going To Have A Wedding!

“For someone’s sake, stop fidgeting so I can fix this!” Bee glared good naturedly at their brother. Crowley nodded, staying as still as he could while they adjusted his tie. His hands clenched and unclenched, and he seemed to be full of restless energy.

“It’s just that...he’s marrying me, Bee. Me. The most perfect man in all existence, and he’s marrying **me.** ” 

Bee rolled their eyes, making sure that the two ends of Crowley’s tie were the same length. “So you’ve been saying for the past four hours. Now, hold still!” Crowley froze, and Bee  **finally** got the tie straightened. They stepped back, their gaze raking up and down. “Not bad.”

Crowley looked down at his tuxedo. It was black, of course, but instead of a white shirt he wore a red one, and the pants were a deep red. His tie was black, to stand out against his shirt. “I hope Aziraphale likes it.”

Bee grinned. “Yeah, I think he will. So, you ready for this?”

Crowley beamed. “Oh, am I ever.”

Across the hall, Anathema was having a similar conversation with the other very nervous and excited groom. “You look wonderful Zira, Anthony’s going to faint when he sees you.” 

Aziraphale fiddled with the cuffs on his gold and white tuxedo. “You don’t think it’s too ostentatious?”

Anathema snorted. “What better time than your wedding to go over the top? It’s almost required.”

Aziraphale smiled. “My dear, we’re getting married in a theater by a woman who moonligh ts as a medium and sometimes dominant, with one Best Person for each of us. This is hardly over the top.” 

Anathema giggled. “But you are getting married. That’s what counts.” 

Aziraphale wiggled happily. “Yes it is.”

The magician looked out the window at the pouring rain. “Just wish the weather would have cooperated.”

Ana grinned at him. “Yeah, but this is better. You’re getting married where you met.”

Aziraphale beamed at that. “I never thought of that!”

“Come on, let’s get you hitched.” 

Crowley stood on the stage, heart pounding. Funny, he’d been up here thousands of times, and he had never been as nervous as he was now. He looked over at Bee, who gave him a reassuring smile. Crowley took a deep breath. 

Thank goodness for Tracy, he thought. When he and Aziraphale had woken up that morning to black skies and pouring rain, his angel had almost gone into hysterics at the thought that they might not have their wedding day. Crowley had checked the weather report, confirmed that yes, the rain was going to last pretty much all day, and called Tracy, begging for help. She had called back not ten minutes later, saying that Mr. Pratchett, the theater manager, had given permission for them to use the theater  as their venue, even offering to foot the bill for the catering. Relieved, Crowley had told Aziraphale, who had whooped in happiness and pulled him into a kiss that very nearly made them both late for their own wedding.

Tracy came onstage, smiling widely. “Look at you. Don’t you clean up well. Your man’s ready. Anthony. Just say the word and we’ll start.” 

Crowley gulped, the sound audible, and nodded. Bee went over to a laptop that was sitting on a rickety table and cued up The Wedding March. Crowley turned towards the front of the stage, and all the breath went out of his body. 

Aziraphale was floating towards him down the central aisle, a radiant smile on his face and(Crowley felt himself melt) a bouquet of fake flowers in his hands. Anathema walked next to him, and even from where he stood Crowley could see the happy tears in her eyes. But Crowley’s gaze was for Aziraphale alone. 

He looked...radiant. Every bit of him seemed to be glowing, and his smile made the theater light up. Crowley watched, still unable to process that this gorgeous man was going to be his husband, as Aziraphale mounted the steps and came to stand in front of him. “Oh, mo chridhe, you look...so beautiful.” Crowley croaked out, and Aziraphale blushed. 

“I could say the same thing about you, my love.” 

Crowley went red. “Thnks. Um...what’s with the flowers?” Aziraphale looked down at the gaudy bouquet and laughed. 

“Ana’s idea. She found them in a box backstage and insisted I carry them.” 

Anathema shrugged. “I thought it would be cute. I’ll take ‘em now.” Aziraphale shoved them into her hands, and she laughed,  then looked out at the lone occupant of the audience. “Newt, you watching?” 

Her fiance gave them two thumbs up. “I sure am!” 

Tracy straightened. “Right. Everyone, we are gathered here on this stage to celebrate the marriage of Anthony Jean Crowley(“Tracy!” Crowley yelled, embarrassed, and Aziraphale smirked) and Aziraphale Zane Fell. I understand that both men have written their own vows. Anthony, would you like to go first?” 

Crowley fumbled in his pocket. Where had he put that piece of paper? He’d had it this morning, he knew he did, and…

A piece of folded paper was pressed into his hands. Bee rolled their eyes in affection. “Thank you.” he mouthed at them and they nodded. Crowley took a deep breath, unfolded the paper, and began reading. 

“Aziraphale, I’ve said before that I never believed in soul mates, love at first sight, or destiny. Then one night, I looked out into this very theater and saw blond curls and a cherubic face. From that instant, I was yours. I kept looking at you, wondering if you felt the same pounding in your heart that I did. When I saw you in my dressing room that night, and realized you were even more prefect up close, I fell harder. 

I had sworn long ago to never give my heart away, that doing so only led to it breaking. But you shattered every barrier I had put up. You laughed with me, cried with me. You were there for every storm, both real and the ones I created for myself.  I call you Mo Chridhe, because you are my heart. You are the very breath of my lungs. I love you more every single day, and when we are married, I swear I will do my very best to make you as happy as I am. I love you, Aziraphale Zane Fell.” 

Aziraphale blinked back tears of joy and pulled out his own paper. Shakily, he unfolded it. 

“Anthony, I never thought anything like this could ever happen to me. I was a broken man, sure that love and happiness had passed me by. Then I get wrangled into going to a magic show. The second I saw you come on stage in your costume, I was gone on you. You had such a commanding and charismatic presence, and I found myself quite flustered. But then I met you, and discovered that the real you is a sweet, gentle man who looks at me like I am the most important thing in creation. You have held me when I cried, taken care of me when I could barely walk from pain, and never once acted as though I was a burden to you. You told me once that you were never going to let me go. Well, my golden serpent, the same holds true for me. You are the best thing to ever happen to me, and I cannot wait to be your husband. I love you, Anthony Crowley, my soon to be spouse.”

Crowley gasped at Aziraphale’s last word. “Mo chridhe?” 

Aziraphale smiled. “Well, I hope sometimes you’ll be my wife or partner.” 

“Yes. Of course.” Crowley nodded, trying not to burst into sobs. “Tracy, you’d better get a move on before I’m a weepy mess.”

Tracy wiped her eyes and sniffled. “Right. Aziraphale Zane Fell, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded spouse, to love and honor him from this day forward until death part you?” 

Aziraphale was bouncing in joy. “I do.” 

Tracy turned to Crowley. “Do you, Anthony Jean Crowley, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love and honor him from this day forward until death part you?”

Crowley couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “You bet I do.”

“Then by the power vested in me, I pronounce you married. You may kiss.” 

And Crowley, grinning like a loon, pulled Aziraphale into a passionate kiss. 

Anathema clapped, tears of happiness pouring down her face. Bee wasn’t quite as much of an emotional wreck, but they were still grinning ear to ear. 

Scattered applause came from the wings where the theater staff had hidden to watch the wedding, Crowley and Aziraphale laughed, waving at them. “Hello, husband.” Crowley whispered, gazing into Aziraphale’s eyes. 

“Hello to you too, husband.” Aziraphale replied, and Crowley’s heart began racing again. 

“Say that again, please?” 

Aziraphale kissed him. “Husband.” 

“Again?” 

“My lovely, perfect, beautiful husband. I’ll say it a million times if you want.”

Crowley pressed their foreheads together. “And I would never tire of hearing it. I love you so much, Aziraphale Fell-Crowley.” 

“And I you, Anthony Fell-Crowley.” 

The reception after was a simple one. The grooms clung to each other, goofy grins on both their faces. Crowley fed Aziraphale, kissing him between bites. Tracy and Newt found that they both had a similar interest on old black and white films, and were currently in a hot debate over whether Maltese Falcon or The Big Sleep was the better Bogart detective movie. Anathema and Bee were in a similar situation, having both discovered a mutual love for horror movies. 

Crowley stuffed a tart in his mouth. “Angel?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Think anyone would notice if we slipped out early?” 

Aziraphale giggled. “Well, they do all seem rather occupied.” 

“Great.” Crowley brushed crumbs off his suit, then stood. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand.” 

Anathema caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She looked, grinned, then turned back to talking to Bee as though nothing had happened. Bee noticed the movement and laughed.

“They snuck out, didn’t they?” Bee asked, a grin on their face. Ana nodded. “Good for them.”

The door to the flat banged open, hitting the wall. Aziraphale and Crowley stumbled in, lips locked together and hands roving everywhere. Crowley kicked the door shut and slammed Aziraphale into the wall, kissing him hungrily. “God, I cannot wait to get you out of this. You look so fucking hot, it took all I had to not rip this off you hours ago...”

“Don’t you dare rip this, it’s a rental.” Aziraphale said between kisses. “But I must confess, I felt the same. You have no right to look as fuckable as you do.” 

Crowley pushed Aziraphale’s jacket off his shoulders. The magician reciprocated, running his hands down Crowley’s arms. “Aziraphale...my husband.” Crowley giggled, giddy. “You’re my husband! We’re married!”

Aziraphale laughed. “Yes, dear, I was there. I remember.” He kissed him, and Crowley kissed back, only to pull away a few minutes later. 

“Oh! Forgot something!” He opened the door and gestured for Aziraphale to step back into the hall. Mystified, the magician obeyed. 

“Crowley, what on...oh!” Aziraphale cried out as Crowley lifted him. “Dear, I am far too heavy for you!”

“Not. Gotta carry you across the threshold.” 

Aziraphale burst into giggles as Crowley stepped back into the flat. “ Really, my dear.” 

Crowley grinned and carried him to their bedroom, laying him down reverently. “Now for the part I’m looking forward to the most. The wedding night.”

Aziraphale didn’t point out that it was, in fact, only two thirty in the afternoon. Instead, he grabbed the lapels of Crowley’s shirt and pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss. “Anthony, get my clothes off, get your clothes off, and please be a good husband and fuck me into the mattress.” 

Crowley moaned into his husband’s mouth. “Yes, Angel.” 

Once they were naked, Crowley reached down, taking both their cocks in his hand. He pumped them, and Aziraphale groaned in want, bucking up into his hand. “Anthony...” 

Crowley sucked a bruise into Aziraphale’s neck, nipping at the skin. “My love, my husband...” he whispered. He was never, ever going to get tired of saying that. 

Aziraphale groaned in pleasure as Crowley began sliding down his body, kissing and sucking every inch of him. When he got to the magician’s already hard and leaking cock, Crowley licked the tip. Aziraphale nearly achieved orbit. Crowley’s hands pinned him down, and Crowley licked the shaft. Aziraphale keened. “Anthny...” he mumbled, drunk with love and lust. 

Crowley engulfed him, taking him down to the hilt. Aziraphale’s cock was so delicious, he thought, delirious with lust. He could(and on a few occasions, had) spend hours with it in his mouth. The weight and silkiness of it was intoxicating. But even better was the praise he received.

“Oh..Anthony, such a good boy, such a good husband, you take my cock so beautifully, you look so gorgeous like this, your beautiful, sinful mouth full of my cock, sucking me down so prettily, taking every bit of my thick shaft...so good to me, my love...” Aziraphale babbled, bucking up into Crowley’s mouth. Crowley moaned around his husband’s cock and sucked harder. Aziraphale twisted his hands in Crowley’s hair and fucked his mouth, babbling words of praise. 

“My love, my dearest, you are so gorgeous like this, taking your pleasure from me, giving me so much in return, I love you so much, my dearest Anthony, I love you I...OHHH!” Aziraphale came, and Crowley happily swallowed. He licked up what bit hadn’t made it into his mouth, then sat up on his haunches, lifted Aziraphale’s legs and placed them on his shoulders. “Fuck, angel, you look so fucking hot right after I suck you off...” He gasped out, reaching for the lube on the table. Aziraphale stopped him. 

“Don’t need that. Want you. Inside. Fucking me. Now.” The magician panted, and Crowley nodded eagerly. 

“Yes, my angel, anything...” Crowley lined himself up and slid inside, a cry of joy on his lips. “Oh, mo chridhe...I love you so much.”

“Less talking, more fucking my brains out, please.” Aziraphale whined, and Crowley laughed. 

“What, you mean like this?” He snapped his hips, driving home, and Aziraphale shrieked in pleasure. “Hmm, guess that is what you mean.” 

He set a relentless pace, pounding Aziraphale into the mattress. Aziraphale howled, yowled, screamed and shrieked, matching him move for move and thrust for thrust. 

They both reached their climaxes at the same time, coming with screams that Crowley was fairly sure could be heard by half of Soho. Well, let them hear. Crowley collapsed onto Aziraphale’s chest, both of them panting and shaking from exertion. 

“Well, that was simply marvelous.” Aziraphale said, and Crowley burst out laughing. 

“Yeah, it was.”

They lay in silence for a while, then Aziraphale spoke up. “So. Jean?” 

Crowley groaned. “It’s the French pronunciation, but nobody ever says it right. They say it the American way.” 

“Are you named for anyone, or was your mother a fan of Victor Hugo?” 

Crowley nodded. “My grandpere was named Jean. I never knew him. But I don’t think he ever stole a loaf of bread.” 

Aziraphale giggled. “So, now that we’re married, what next, darling husband of mine?” 

Crowley smiled. “Well, we have the honeymoon. I’ve got some money, enough for a nice trip around Europe, we could go to all the art museums, swim in the Mediterranean, eat delicacies from every country, then when we come back, maybe we could find a place in the country, I could start a greenhouse, you could open a bookshop...”

Aziraphale blinked. “What about your career?” 

Crowley kissed him. “I’m retiring. Thirty eight is a bit old to be doing what I do every night, and I’ve got something much more important to focus on.” 

Aziraphale smiled. “Indeed. Now, tell me about this place in the country.”

Crowley grinned and began talking, gesturing eagerly. Aziraphale listened, his heart full. 

He had discovered, much to his surprise, that magic was still real, and he had found the greatest magic of all. 


End file.
